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THE MOVIE BOYS 
IN PERIL 


OR} 


Strenuous Days Along 
The Panama Canal 


BY 
VICTOR APPLETON 


Author of “The Movie Boys in the Wild West,” “The 
Movie Boys in the Jungle,” “The Movie 
Boys in Earthquake Land,” ete. 





Garpen City New York 
GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, Inc. 
1926 


THE FAMOUS MOVIE BOYS 
SERIES (as), 


BY 
VICTOR APPLETON 


See back of book for list of titles 





COPYRIGHT, 1915, 1926, BY . 
GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC. 


THE MOVIE BOYS 
IN PERIL 


CHAPTER [I 
TO THE RESCUE 


Wirt# a series of puffs and chugs a big, shiny 
motor cycle turned from the road into the grav- 
eled drive at the side of a white farmhouse. 
Two boys sat on the creaking saddles. The one 
at the front handle bars threw forward the clutch 
lever, and then turned on the power sharply to 
drive the last of the gases out of the twin cylin- 
ders. 

The motor cycle came to a stop near a shed, 
and the two lads, swinging off, looked at each 
other for a moment. 

“ Some ride, that!’’ observed one. “ You had 
her going then, Blake!” 

“ Just a little, Joe—yes. It was a nice level 
stretch, and I wanted to see what she could do.” 

“You didn’t let her out to the full at that; did 


your” 
I 


3 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“ T should say not!” answered the one who had 
ridden in front, and guided the steed of steel and 
gasoline. ‘ She'll do better than ninety miles an 
hour on the level; but J don’t want to ride on her 
_ when she’s doing it.” 

“Norl. Well, it was a nice little run, all right. 
Funny, though, that we didn’t get any mail; 
wasn't it?” 

“It sure was. I think somebody must be rob- 
bing the post-office, for we ought to have had a 
letter from Mr. Hadley before this,’ and he 
laughed at his own joke. 

“Yes,” agreed Joe, “and I ought to have had 
ene from —” 

He stopped suddenly, and a blush suffused the 
tan of his cheeks. 

“Might as well say it as think it,’ broke in 
Blake with another laugh that showed his white, 
even teeth. “ Hasn’t Mabel written to you this 
week?” 

“ What if she hasn’t? ”’ fired back Joe. 

“Oh, nothing. Only —”’ 

“Only I suppose you are put out because you 
haven’t had a postcard from Birdie Lee!” chal- 
lenged Joe. 

“Oh, well, have it your own way,’ and Blake, 
with a shrug of his broad shoulders, began to 
wheel the motor cycle into the shed. 


TO THE RESCUE | 


“No, but it is queer; isn’t it?’’ went on Joe. 
“Here we’ve been back from the flood district 
over two weeks now, and we haven’t had a line 
from Mr. Hadley. He promised to write, too, 
and let us know what sort of moving pictures he 
might be in line for next. Our vacation will soon 
be over, and we don’t want to be idle.” 

“ That’s right,” agreed hischum. “ There’s no 
money in sitting around, when the film isn’t run- 
ning. Oh, well, I suppose Mr. Hadley has been. 
so busy that he hasn’t had time to make his 
plans. ; 

“ Besides,” Blake went on, ‘‘ you know there 
was a lot of trouble over the Mississippi flood pic- 
tures — reels of film getting lost, and all that — 
to say nothing of the dangers our friends ran. 
Birdie Lee said she’d never forget what they 
suffered.” | 

“T don’t blame her. Well, maybe they haven't 
got straightened out enough yet to feel like writ- 
ing. But it sure is nice here, and I don’t mind if 
we stay another week or so,” and he looked up 
the pleasant valley, on one side of which was 
perched the farmhouse where the two moving 
picture boys had been spending their vacation. 

“It sure is nice,’ agreed Blake. ‘* And it’s lots 
more fun since we got this motor cycle,” for they 
had lately invested in the powerful vehicle on 


4 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


which they had made many trips about the sur- 
rounding country. 

As Blake went to put the machine in the shed, 
which their farmer-landlord had allowed them to 
use, Joe turned to glance back along the-road they 
had come. 

The farmhouse was set up on a little hill, above 
the road, and a glimpse of the highway could be 
had for a long distance. It was the sight of 
something coming along this thoroughfare that 
attracted Joe’s attention. 

“What are you looking at?” asked Blake, re- 
turning after having put away the motor cycle. 

“That horse and buggy. Looks to me as 
though that horse was feeling his oats, and that 
the fellow driving him didn’t know any more 
about handling the reins than the law allows.” 

“That’s right, Joe. If he doesn’t look out 
he'll have an upset, or a runaway.” 

The vehicle in question was a light buggy, 
drawn by a particularly large and spirited horse. 
Seated in the carriage, as the boys could see from 
their point of vantage, weretwo men. Who they 
were could not be distinguished at that distance, 
but the carriage was rapidly coming nearer. 

“ There he goes!” suddenly cried Joe. 

As his chum spoke Blake saw that one of the 
reins had parted, probably because the driver 


TO THE RESCUE 5 


pulled on it too hard in trying to bring the restive 
steed down to a walk. 

Once the spirited horse felt that he was no 
longer under control, save by one line, which was 
worse than none, he sprang forward, and at once 
began to gallop, pulling after him the light car- 
riage, which swayed from side to side, threatening 
every moment to collapse, overturn, or at least be 
torn loose from the horse. 

“ There he goes!” yelled Joe again. 

“I should say so!” agreed Blake. “ There 
are going to be some doings soon!”’ 

This was evident, for the horse was running 
away, a fact not only apparent in itself, but 
heralded by the looks on the faces of the two 
occupants of the carriage, and by their frightened 
cries, which the wind easily carried to the watch- 
ing Joe Duncan and Blake Stewart. 

On the road below them, and past the boys, 
swept the swaying carriage in a cloud of dust. 
‘As it was momentarily lost to sight behind a 
grassy knoll, Blake cried: 

“« The broken bridge, Joe!, The broken bridge! 
They’re headed right for it!” 

“ That’s right!’’ exclaimed his chum. “ How 
can we stop them? ” 

Once having recognized the danger, the next 
thought that came to the minds of Blake and 


6 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


Joe, trained for emergencies, was how to avert 
it. They looked at each other for a second, not 
to gain a delay, but to decide on the best possi- 
ble plan of saving the imperiled men. 

“The broken bridge,’?) murmured Blake again, 
“That horse will never be able to make the turn 
into the temporary road, going at the speed he 
is!” 

“No, and he’s probably so frightened that 
he'll not try it,’ agreed Joe. ‘ He'll crash right 
through the barrier fence, and —’ 

He did not finish his sentence, but Blake knew 
what his chum meant. 

About half a mile beyond the farmhouse the 
road ran over a bridge that spanned a deep and 
rocky ravine. About a week before there had 
been an accident. ‘Weakened by the passing of 
a heavy traction threshing engine, it had been 
broken, and was ruled unsafe by the county au- 
thorities. 

Accordingly the bridge had been condemned 
and partially torn down, a new structure being 
planned to replace it. But this new bridge was 
not yet in place, though a frail, temporary span, 
open only to foot passengers and very light ve- 
hicles, had been thrown across the ravine. 

The danger, though, was not so much in the 
temporary bridge, as in the fact that the tem=— 


TO THE RESCUE 7 


porary road, connecting with it, left the main 
and permanent highway at a sharp curve. Per- 
sons knowing of the broken bridge made allow- 
ances for this curve, and approached along the 
main road carefully, to make the turn safely 
into the temporary highway. 

But a maddened horse could not be expected 
to do this. He would dash along the main road, 
and would not make the turn. Or, if he did, 
going at the speed of this one, he would most 
certainly overturn the carriage. 

The main highway was fenced off a short dis- 
tance on either side of the broken bridge, but 
this barrier was of so frail a nature that it could 
not be expected to stop a runaway. 

“Hell crash right through it, run out on the 
end of the broken bridge and —” 

Once more Joe did not finish. 

“We've got to do something!” cried Blake. 

“Yes, but what?’’ asked Joe. 

“We've got to save them!” cried Blake again, 
as he thought of the two men in the carriage. 
'He had had a glimpse of their faces as the ve- 
hicle, drawn by the frenzied horse, swept past 
him on the road below. One of the men he 
knew to be employed in the only livery stable of 
Central Falls, on the outskirts of which he and 
Joe were spending their holiday. The other 


8 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


man was a stranger. Blake had only seen that 
he was a young man, rather good-looking, and 
of a foreign cast of countenance. Blake had 
momentarily put him down for an Italian. 

“The motor cycle!” suddenly cried Joe. 

“ What? ”’ asked Blake, only half comprehend- 
ing. 

“We might overtake them on the motor 
cycle!” repeated his chum. 

A look of understanding came into Blake’s 
eyes. 

“That’s right!” he cried. ‘ Why didn’t I 
think of that before, instead of standing here 
mooning? JI wonder if we've got time?” 

“We'll make time!” cried Joe grimly. “ Get 
her out, and we'll ride for all we're worth. It'll 
be a race, Blake!” 

“Yes. A race to save a life! Lucky she’s 
got plenty of gas and oil in her.” 

“Yes, and she hasn’t had a chance to cool 
down. Run her out.” 

Blake fairly leaped toward the shed where he | 
had wheeled the motor cycle. In another in- 
stant he and Joe were trundling it down the 
gravel walk to the road. 

As they reached the highway they contd hear, 
growing fainter and fainter, the “ thump-thud,” 
of the hoofs of the runaway horse. 


TO THE RESCUE 9 


Joe held the machine upright while Blake 
vaulted to the forward saddle and began to work 
the pedals to start the motor. The cylinders 
were still hot from the recent run, and at the 
first revolution the staccato explosions began. 

“Jump up!” yelled Blake in his chum’s ear — 
shouting above the rattle and bang of the ex- 
haust, for the muffler was open. 

Joe sprang to leather, but before he was in 
his seat Blake was letting in the friction clutch, 
and a moment later, at ever gathering speed, 
the shining motor cycle was speeding down the 
road to the rescue. Would Joe and Blake be in 
time? 


CHAPTER II 
ON THE BRINK 


“ Wuat — what’s your plan, Blake?” yelled 
Joe into his chum’s ear, as he sat’ behind him 
on the jolting second saddle of the swaying 
motor cycle. | 

“What do you mean?” demanded Blake, 
half turning his head. 

“IT mean how are you going to stop that run- 
away, or rescue those fellows?’” 

“T haven’t thought, yet, but if we can get 
ahead of the horse we may be able to stop him 
before he gets to the road-barrier or to the dan- 
gerous turn.” 

“ That’s — right!” panted Joe, the words be- 
ing fairly jolted out of him. “ Head him off 
=—I see!” : | 

“Hold fast!” exclaimed Blake, as the conduc- 
tor does when a trolley car goes around a curve. 
“Hold fast!” ) 

‘There was need of the advice, for a little 


tutn in the road was just ahead of them and — 
10 


ON THE BRINK it 


Blake intended to take it at almost top speed. 

Bumping, swaying, jolting, spitting fire and 
smoke, with a rattle, clatter and bang, on rushed 
the motor cycle on its errand of rescue. 

“Hark!”’’ cried Joe, close to Blake’s ear. 
* Listen!” 

“Can't, with all this racket!’ yelled back 
Blake, for he had opened the throttle to gain 
a little increase of power. ‘“ What’s the mat- 
rene 

“T thought I heard the horse.” 3 

“Hearing him won’t do any good,” observed 
Blake grimly. “‘ We've got to see him and get 
ahead!” 

And he turned on a little more gasoline. 

While Blake and Joe are thus speeding to the 
rescue of the men in the runaway, we will take 
a few moments to tell our new readers some- 
thing about the boys who are to figure promi- 
nently in this story., 

Joe Duncan and Blake Stewart were called 
the “Moving Picture Boys,’ for’ an obvious 
‘reason, They took moving pictures. With their 
‘curious box-like cameras, equipped with the 
thousand feet of sensitive celluloid film, and the 
operating handle, they had risen from the ranks 
of mere helpers to be expert operators. And 
now they were qualified to take moving pictures 


I2 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


of anything from a crowd, shuffling along the 
street, to a more complicated scene, such as a 
flood, earthquake or volcanic eruption. And, 
incidentally, I might mention that they had been 
in all three of these last situations. 

The first volume of this series is called “The 
Movie Boys on Call,” and in that I introduced to 
you Blake and Joe. 

They worked on adjoining farms, and one 
day they saw a company of moving picture 
actors and actresses come to a stream, near where 
they were, to take a “movie drama.” 

Naturally Blake and Joe were interested at 
once, and making the acquaintance of Mr. Cal- 
vert Hadley, who was in charge of the: taking 
of the play, or “ filming it,” as the technical term 
has it, the two boys were given an opportunity 
to get into the business. 

‘They went to New York, and began the study 
of how moving pictures are taken, developed 
from the films, the positives printed and then, 
through the projecting machine, thrown on the 
screen more than life size. 

The process is an intricate one, and rather 
complicated, involving much explanation. As I 
have already gone into it in detail in my first book 
of this series, I will not repeat it here. Those of 
you who wish to know more about the “ movies ” 


ON THE BRINK 13 


than you can gain by looking at the interesting 
pictures in some theater, are respectfully referred 
to the initial volume. 

Joe and Blake were much interested in the 
Film Theatrical Company. My former readers 
will well remember some members of that organ- 
ization —C. C. Piper, or ‘‘ Gloomy,” as he was 
called when not referred to as just “C. C.”’; 
Birdie Lee, a pretty, vivacious girl; Mabel Pierce, 
a new member of the company ; Henry Robertson, 
who played juvenile “leads”; Miss Shay, and 
others in whom you are more or less interested. 

After various adventures in New York City, 
taking films of all sorts of perilous scenes, Joe 
and Blake went out West, their adventures there 
being told in the volume of that name. They 
had their fill of cowboys and Indians, and, in- 
cidentally, were in no little danger. 

Afterward they went to the Pacific Coast, 
thence to the jungle, where many stirring wild 
animal scenes were obtained, and afterward they 
had many adventures in Earthquake Land. 
‘There they were in great danger from tremors 
of the earth, and from volcanoes, but good luck, 
no less than good management, brought them 
home with whole skins, and with their cases filled 
with rare films. 

Having finished in the land of uncertainty, 


14 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


the work assigned to them by Mr. Hadley and 
his associates, Joe and Blake had gone for their 
vacation to the farm of Mr. Hiram Baker, near 
Central Falls. But their intention of enjoying a 
quiet stay was rudely interrupted. 

For not long after they had arrived, and were 
resting quietly under a cherry tree in the shade, 
Mr. Ringold, with whom they were also as- 
sociated in moving picture work, called them up 
on the long distance telephone to offer them a 
most curious assignment. 

This was to go to the flooded Mississippi 
Valley, and get moving pictures of the “ Father 
of Waters” on one of “his” annual rampages. 

Of course Blake and Joe went, and their ad- 
ventures in the flood fill the volume immediately 
preceding this one. 

And now they had returned, anticinanile a 
second session of their vacation. They had 
brought a motor cycle with which to go about 
the pretty country surrounding Central Falls. 

“For,” reasoned Blake, “we haven’t much 
time left this summer, and if we want to enjoy 
ourselves we'll have to hustle. A motor cycle is 
the most hustling thing I know of this side of 
an automobile, and we can’t afford that yet.” 

“Tm with you “for a motor cycle,’ Joe had 
said. So one was purchased, jointly. 


ON THE BRINK 15 


It was on returning from a pleasant ride that 
our heroes had seen the runaway with which we 
are immediately concerned. They were now 
speeding after the maddened horse dragging the 
frail carriage, hoping to get ahead of and stop the 
animal before it either crashed into the frail bar- 
tier, and leaped into the ravine, or upset the 
vehicle in trying to make the turn into the tem- 
porary road. 

“There he is!” suddenly cried Blake. The 
motor cycle, bearing the two chums, had made 
the curve in the road successfully and was now 
straightened up on a long, level stretch. And 
yet not so long, either, for not more than a 
quarter of a mile ahead was another turn, and 
then came the bridge. 

“T see him!” answered Joe. “Can you make 
tata 

“Tm going to!” declared Blake, closing his 
lips firmly. 

Every little bump and stone in the road seemed 
magnified because of the speed at which. they 
were moving. But Blake held the long handles 
firmly, and, once the curve was passed, he turned 
the rubber grip that let a little more gasoline 
flow into the carbureter to be vaporized and 
sprayed into the cylinders, where the Fleet 
spark exploded it with a bang. 3 


16 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“We — are — going — some!” panted Joe. 

* Got — to!” assented Blake, grimly. 

On swayed the thundering, rattling motor 
cycle. The carriage top had either been let down, 
or some of the supports had broken, and it had 
faHen, and the boys could now plainly see the 
two men on the seat. They had not jumped, 
but they had evidently given up trying to make 
the horse stop by pulling on the one rein, for the 
animal was speeding straight down the center of 
the road. 

“We aren’t catching up to him very fast!” 
howled Joe into Blake’s ear, and he had to howl 
louder than usual, for they were then passing 
along a portion of the road densely shaded by 
trees. In fact the branches of the trees met over- 
head. in a thick arch, and it was like going 
through a leafy tunnel. 

This top bower of twigs and branches threw 
back the noise of the explosions of the motor 
cycle, and made an echo, above which it was 
almost impossible to make one’s voice heard. 

“Look out!” suddenly cried Blake. “ Hold 
“fast!” 

At first Joe imagined that his chum was going 
to make another curve in the road, but none was 
at hand. Then, as Blake watched his chum’s 

right hand, he saw him slowly turn the moyable 


ON THE BRINK wav, 


rubber handle that controls the gasoline supply. 
Blake was turning on more power, though now 
the machine was running at a higher rate than 
Joe or Blake had ever traveled before. 

With a jump like that of a dog released from 
the leash, the motor cycle seemed to spring for- 
ward. Indeed Joe must needs hold on, and as 
he was not so favorably seated as was his chum, 
it became a matter of no little trouble to main- 
tain a grip with his legs and hands. 

“ We — sure — are — going —some!” mut- 
tered Joe. But he did not open his mouth any 
more. It was too dangerous at the speed they 
had attained. A jolt over a stone, or a bit of 
wood, might send his teeth through his tongue 
if he parted his jaws. So he kept quiet. 

Ahead of them the carriage swayed and 
swerved. ‘The horse was.a speedy one, but no 
creature of bone, blood, muscles and sinews can 
distance a fire-spitting and smoke-eating machine 
like a motor cycle. The distance was gradually 
being cut down. | 

But now, just ahead of them, was the curve, 
immediately beyond which was the broken, 
bridge, and also the temporary one, shunting off 
at a sharp angle from the main highway. 

“Look out! Hold on!” once more cried 
Blake, speaking in quick tones. 


386 = MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


For a moment Joe wondered at the added cau- 
tion, and then he sensed what Blake was about 
to do. 

To one side of them stretched a level field. 
The road made a slight detour about it, just 
before meeting the ravine, and by crossing this 
field 1t was possible for the boys to reach the 
bridge ahead of the swaying carriage. But at 
the speed they were now running it was dan- 
gerous, and risky in the extreme, to run across 
the uneven meadow. Blake, however, evidently 
- Was going to chance it. 

“Hold fast!” he cried once more, and Joe 
had no more than time to take a firmer grip on 
the bar in front of him, and to cling with his 
legs to the foot supports and saddle, than they 
were off the road, and into the green field. The 
fence had been taken down to allow for the stor- 
age of bridge-building material in the meadow. 

“Now we'll get him!” cried Blake, but he 
spoke too soon. For the motor cycle had not 
gone ten feet into the uneven field, jolting, sway- 
ing and all but throwing off the moving picture 
boys, than the sound of the explosions suddenly 
ceased, and the machine began to slacken speed. 

With a quickness that was added to by the 
rough nature of the, ground, the motor cycle 
slowed up and stopped. 


ON THE BRINK 19 


“ What’s the matter?” cried Joe, putting down 
his feet to support the machine. | 

““Something’s busted— gasoline pipe, _ I 
guess!” cried Blake. “Come on! We've got 
to run for it!” | 

The accident had occurred only a short dis- 
tance from the road. Together the two chums, 
leaping clear of the motor cycle, made for it on 
the run. 

But they were too late. They had a glimpse 
of the runaway horse dashing straight at the 
fence barrier. 

The next moment there was a splintering 
crash, and he was through it. 

Onl) cried Blake. 

The thunder of the horse’s hoofs on what was 
left of the wooden approach to the broken bridge 
drowned his words. 

Then the animal, with a leap, disappeared over 
the jagged edges of the planks.. The boys ex- 
pected to see the carriage and the two occupants 
follow, but to their intense surprise, the vehicle 
swayed to one side, caught somehow on one of 
the king beams of the bridge and hung there. 

“Come on!” cried Blake, increasing his 
speed ; “ we've got a chance of saving them yet!” 


CHAPTER Il 
A SURPRISE 


THEY reached—only just in time—the 
broken and collapsed carriage with its two front 
wheels mere twisted and splintered spokes. The 
moving picture boys reached it, and with strong 
and capable hands pulled it back from the brink 
of the ravine, over which it hung. In the depths 
below the horse lay, very still and quiet. 

“Pull back!” directed Blake, but Joe needed 
no urging. <A slight difference — inches only — 
meant safety or death —terrible injury at best, 
for the ravine was a hundred feet deep. But 
those few inches were on the side of safety. 

So evenly was the carriage poised, that only, 
a little strength was needed to send it either 
way. But Joe and Blake pulled it back on the 
unwrecked portion of the bridge approach. 

The two men were still on the seat, but it had 
broken in the middle, pitching them toward the 
center, and they were wedged fast. Hank Duryee, 


the town livery driver, did not seem to-be hurt, 
20 


A SURPRISE gt 


though there was an anxious look on his face, 
and he was very pale, which was unusual for 
him. , 

_ As for the other man he seemed to have 
fainted. His eyes were closed, but his swarthy 
complexion permitted little diminution in his 
- color. There was a slight cut on his head, from 
which had trickled a little blood that ran down 

to his white collar. | 

“Easy, boys!” cautioned Hank, and his voice 
tasped out in the quiet that succeeded the staccato 
noise from the motor cycle. “Go easy now! 
A touch’il send us down,” and he gazed shudder- 
ingly into the depths below. 

“We've got you,” Blake assured him, as he 
and Joe drew still farther back on the platform 
of the bridge what was left of the carriage. As 
they did so one of the rear wheels collapsed, let- 
ting the seat down with a jerk. 

“Oh!” gasped Hank, and a tremor seemed 
to go through the insensible frame of the other. 

“It’s all right,’’ Blake assured the livery stable 
driver. ‘“ You can’t fall far.” 

“Not as far as down—there,” and Hank 
pointed a trembling finger into the depths of the 
ravine. 

“Can you get out—can you walk?” asked 


Joe. 


22 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“Yes. I’m more scared than hurt,’ Hank 
made answer 

“How about him?” asked Blake, motioning 
to the other occupant of the carriage. 

“Only a little cut on the head, where he banged 
up against the top irons, I guess. A little water — 
will fetch him around. My! But that was a 
close shave! ”’ 

He staggered out on the broken bridge. His 
legs were unsteady, through weakness and feat, 
but not from any injury. 

“How did it happen?” asked Joe. 

“Horse got. scared. at something —I don’t 
know what—and bolted. I didn’t want to take 
him out — he’s an old spitfire anyhow, and hasn’t 
been driven in a week. But this feller was in 
a hurry,” and he nodded toward the unconscious 
man, “and I had to bring him out with Rex — 
the only horse in the stable just then. 

“I said I was afraid we’d have a smash-up, 
and we did. The line Bushs near Baker’s place, 
and — well, here we are.’ 

“Better here than — down there,” observed 
Joe in a low voice. 

“That’s right,” agreed Hank. ‘“* Now let’s see 
what we can do for him. Hope he isn’t much 
hurt, though I don’t see how he could be” 


A SURPRISE 23 


“Who is he?” asked Blake, but the livery 
stable driver did not answer. He was bending 
back the bent frame of the dashboard to more 
easily get out the swarthy man. Joe and Blake, 
seeing what he was trying to do, helped him. 

Soon they were able to lift out the stranger, 
but there was no need of carrying him, for he 
suddenly opened his eyes, straightened up and 
stood on his feet, retaining a supporting hand on 
Hank’s shoulder. 

“ Where— where are we?” he asked, in a 
dazed way. —“ Did we fall?” 

He spoke with an accent that at once told 
Blake and Joe his nationality — Spanish, either 
' from Mexico or South America. 

“We're all right,’ put in Hank. “ These 
young fellows saved us from going over into the 
gulch. It was a narrow squeak, though.” 

“Ah!” The man uttered the exclamation 
with a long sigh of satisfaction and relief. Then 
he put his hand to his forehead, and praia it 
away with a little blood on it. 

“Tt is nothing. It is a mere scratch and does 
not distress me in the least,’ he went on, speak- 
ing very correct English, in his curiously ac- 
cented voice. He appeared to hesitate a little to 
pick out the words and expressions he wanted, 


24, MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


and, often, in such cases, the wrong words, 
though correct enough in themselves, were se- 
lected. . 

“T am at ease —all right, that is to say,” he 
went on, with a rather pale smile. “And so 
these young men saved us—saved our lives?. 
Is that what you mean, sefior—I should say, 
sir?” and he quickly corrected his slip. 

“T should say they did!” exclaimed Hank with 
an air of satisfaction. ‘“Old Rex took matters 
into his own hands, or, rather legs, and we were 
just about headed for kingdom come when these 
fellows pulled us back from the brink. As for 
Rex himself, I guess he’s gone where he won't 
run away any more,” and leaning over the jagged 
edge of the bridge the stableman looked down 
on the motionless form of the horse. Rex had, 
- indeed, run his last. 

“It is all so—so surprising to me,’ went on 
the stranger. “It all occurred with such unex- 
pected suddenness. One moment we are driving 
along as quietly as you please, only perhaps a 
trifle accentuated, and then — presto! we begin 
to go too fast, and the leather thong breaks. Then, 
indeed there are things doing, as you say up here.” 

He smiled, trying, perhaps, to show himself at 
his ease. He was rapidly recovering, not only 
from the fright, but from the effects of the blow 


_ A SURPRISE 25 


on the head which had caused the cut, and ren- 
dered him unconscious for a moment. 

“It sure was a narrow squeak,” declared Hank 
again. ‘I don’t want any closer call. I couldn’t 
move to save myself, I was so dumbfounded, arid 
the carriage would have toppled down in another 
second if you boys hadn’t come along and hauled 
it back.” 

“We saw you pass Mr. Baker’s house,” ex- 
plained Blake, “and we came after you on the 
motor cycle. Tried to get ahead of you, but the 
old machine laid down on us.” 

“ But we got here in time,” added Joe. 

“You did indeed! I can not thank you 
enough,” put in the Spaniard, as Joe and Blake 
both classed him. “ You have saved my life, and 
some day I hope not only to repay the favor, but 
to show how grateful I am in other ways. I 
am a stranger in this part of your fine country, 
but I expect to be better acquainted soon. But 
where is our horse?”’ he asked quickly, not seem- 
ing to understand what had happened. “ How 
are we to continue our journey?” and he looked 
at his driver. 

“We're at the end of it now, in more ways 
than one,’ Hank answered, with a smile 
“You're just where you wanted to go, though 
not in the style [ calculated on taking you.” 


26 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“ But I do not comprehend, sir,” said the Span- 
iard, in rather puzzled’accents. “I have en- 
gaged you to take me to a certain place. There 
is an accident. We go through a fence with a 
resounding crash— Ah! JI can hear that 
smash yet!” and he put his hands to his ears in a 
somewhat dramatic manner. | 

“Then everything is black. Our horse disap- 
pears, and —” 

*“ He’s down there, if you want to know where 
he disappeared to,” broke in Hank, practically. 

“Tt is no matter —if he is gone,” went on the 
Spaniard. ‘‘ But I do not comprehend — assimi- 
late — no, comprehend —that is it. I do not 
comprehend what you mean when you say we are 
at our journey’s end.” 

“Tl tell you,” exclaimed Hank, as he glanced 
at Joe and Blake in a manner that caused them 
to wonder. “ You said you wanted to find —” 

“Pardon me — my card, gentlemen!” and the 
stranger extended a rectangle of white on which 
was engraved the name Vigues Alcando. 

Blake took it, and, as he did so, from the pocket 
whence the Spaniard had extracted the card, there 
fell a letter. Joe picked it up, but, to his sur- 
prise it was addressed to himself and Blake 
jointly, and, in the upper left hand corner was 
the imprint of the Film Theatrical Company. 


A SURPRISE 27 


“Why — why,” began Joe. “ This is for us! 
Look, Blake!” 

“For you! That letter for you?” cried Mr. 
Alcando. “ Are you the moving picture boys? ” 

“That’s what they call us,’ answered Joe, 
“This is Blake Stewart, and I’m his chum, Joe 
Duncan.” 

“Ts it possible — is it possible!” cried Mr. Al- 
cando. ‘“ And you have saved my life! Why— 
I—1—er—I—Oh! To think of this happen- 
ing so! You are—you are—!” He put his 
hands to his head and seemed to sway. 

“Took out! He’s going to fall!” warned 
Blake, springing forward to catch the Spaniard. 


CHAPTER IV 
A DELAYED LETTER 


But Mr. ‘Alcando, to Americanize his name, 
did not faint. After reeling uncertainly for a 
moment, he obtained command of his muscles, 
straightened up, and stood rigid. 

“1 —I beg your pardons,” he said, faintly, as 
though he had committed some blunder. “ I— 
I fear I am not altogether myself.” 

“ Shouldn’t wonder but what you were a bit 
played out,” put in Hank. “ What we've just 
gone through with was enough to knock anyone 
out, to say nothing of the crack you got on the 
head. Maybe we'd better get a doctor?” and his 
voice framed a question, as he looked at Joe and 
Blake. 

“No, no!’ hastily exclaimed the Spaniard, for 
he was of that nationality, though born in South 
America, as the boys learned later. 

“T do not require the services of a physician,” 
went on Mr. Alcando, speaking rapidly. “Iam 
perfectly all right now —or, I shall be in a few 


moments. If I had a drink of water —’ 
28 


A DELAYED LETTER: *. 29 


His voice trailed off feebly, and he looked about 
rather helplessly. , 

“There used to be a spring hereabouts,” said 
Hank, “ but I haven’t been this way in some time, 
and —” | 

“T know where it is!” interrupted Blake. He 
and Joe, with a training that had made it neces- 
sary for them to “ size up,”’ and know intimately 
their surroundings, for use in taking moving pic- 
tures, had sensed the location of a bubbling spring 
of pure water along the road on their first visit 
toit. “It’s right over here; I’ll get some,” Blake 
went on. 

“Tf you will be so kind,” spoke the Spaniard, 
and he extended a collapsible drinking cup. 

Blake lost little time in filling it, and soon after 
drinking Mr, Alcando appeared much better. 

“Tam sorry to give all this trouble,” the Span- 
iard went on, “ but I have seemed to meet with 
considerable number of shocks to-day. First there 
was the runaway, which I certainly did not ex- 
pect, and then came the sudden stop—a stop 
most fortunate for us, I take it,” and he glanced, 
not without a shudder, in the direction of the 
gulch where the dead horse lay. 

And then you pulled us back from the brink 
-— the brink of death,’ he went on, and his voice 
had in it a tone of awe, as well as thankfulness. 


30 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“T can not thank you now —I shall not try,” he 
went on. “ But some time, I hope to prove — 

“Oh, what am I saying!” he broke in upon 
himself. ‘“‘ I never dreamed of this. It is incom- 
prehensible. That I should meet you so, you 
whom I —” 

Once more his hands went to his head with 
a tragic gesture, and yet it did not seem that he 
was in physical pain. The cut on his head had 
stopped bleeding. 

“Ttistoo bad! Toobad! And yet fate would 
have it so!” he murmured after a pause. “ But 
that it should turn in such a queer circle. Well, it 
is fate —I must accept!” 

Joe and Blake looked at each other, Blake «vith 
slightly raised eyebrows, which might mean an 
implied question as to the man’s sanity. ‘Then 
the moving picture boys looked at Hank, who 
had driven them about on several excursions be- 
fore they bought the motor cycle. 

Hank, who stood a little behind the Spaniard, - 
shrugged his shoulders, and tapped his head sig- 
. nificantly. 

“But I must again beg your pardon,” said Mr. 
‘Alcando quickly. “I most certainly am not my- 
self this day. But it is the surprise of meeting you 
whom I came to seek. Now, if you will par- 
don me,” and he looked at the letter, addressed 


A DELAYED LETTER 31 


to Blake and Joe jointly — which epistle had been 
handed to him after it had been picked up from 
the ground. 

“ And were you really looking for us?”’ asked 
Joe, much puzzled. 

“I was— for both of you young gentlemen, 
My friend the driver here can testify to that.” 

“That’s right,’ said Hank. ‘“ This gentieman 
came in on the New York express, and went to 
our livery stable. He said he wanted to come 
out to Baker’s farm and meet you boys. 

“I happened to be the only one around at the 
time,’ Hank went on, “and as I knew the road, 
and knew you boys, I offered to bring him out. 
But I wish I’d had some other horse. I sure 
didn’t count on Rex running away. 

“And when I found I couldn’t stop him, and 
knew we were headed for the broken bridge — 
well, I wanted to jump out, but I didn’t dare. 
And I guess you felt the same way,” he said to 
Mr. Alcando. 

“ Somewhat, I must confess,’ spoke the Span- 
iard, who, as I have said, used very good Eng- 
lish, though with an odd accent, which I shall not 
attempt to reproduce. | 

“And then came the smash,” went on ate 

“and I didn’t expect, any more than he did, that 
you fellows would come to our rescue. But you 


32 MOVING-PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


did, and now, Mr. Alcando, you can deliver your 
letter.’’ | 

“And these really are the young gentlemen 
whom I seek?” asked the Spaniard. “ Pardon. 
me, I do not in the least doubt your word,’ he 
added with a formal bow, “but it seems so 
strange.” 

“We are the moving picture boys,” answered 
Blake with a smile, wondering what the letter 
could contain, and, wondering more than ever, 
why a missive from the Film Theatrical Com- 
pany should be brought by this unusual stranger. 

“Then this is for you,” went on Mr. Alcando. 
“And to think that they saved my life!” he mur- 
mured. 

“ Shall I read it, Joe?”’ asked Blake, for the 
Spaniard extended the letter to him. 

“Sure. Go ahead. I'll listen.” 

‘Blake took the folded sheet from the envelope, 
and his first glance was at the signature. 

“It’s from Mr, Hadley! ”’ he exclaimed. 

“ What’s up?” asked Joe, quickly. 

Blake was reading in a mumbling tone, hardly 
distinguishable. 

“Dear boys. This will introduce — um — um 
+— um — who is desirous of learning the business 
of taking moving pictures. He comes to me well 


A DELAYED LETTER 33 


recommended —um—wum” (more mumbles), 
“T wish you would do all you can for him — um 
— and when you go to Panama —” : 

That was as far as Blake read. Then he cried 
out: 

“I say, Joe, look here! {I can’t make head nor 
tail of this!” 

“What is it?” asked his chum, looking over 
his shoulder at the letter the Spaniard had so 
strangely brought to them. 

* Why, Mr. Hadley speaks of us going to Pan- 
ama. ‘That’s the first we’ve had an inkling to that 
effect. What in the world does he mean?” 

“I hope I have not brought you bad news in a 
prospective trip to where the great canal will unite 
the two oceans,” spoke the Spaniard in his formal 
manner. 

* Well, I don’t know as you'd call it bad news,” 
said Blake, slowly. “ We’ve gotten sort of used 
to being sent to the ends of the earth on short 
notice, but what gets me — excuse me for putting 
it that way — what surprises me is that this is 
the first Mr. Hadley has mentioned Panama to 
us.” 

“Ts that so?” asked Mr. Alcando. “ Why, I 
understood that you knew all about his plans.” 

* No one knows all about Hadley’s plans,” said 


34 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


Joe in a low voice. “ He makes plans as he goes 
along and changes them in his sleep. But this 
ene about Panama is sure a new one to us.” 

“ That's right,” chimed in Blake. 

“We were speaking of the big ditch shortly 
before the runaway came past,” went on Blake, 
“but that was only a coincidence, of course. We 
had no idea of going there, and I can’t yet under- 
stand what Mr. Hadley refers to when he says 
we may take you there with us, to show you some 
ef the inside workings of making moving pic- 
tures.” 

“ Did you read the letter all the way through? ”’ 
Joe asked. 

“No, but —” 

“ Perhaps I can explain,” interrupted the Span- 
jard. “If you will kindly allow me. I came to 
New York with an express purpose in view. That 
purpose has now suffered——but no matter. f 
must not speak of that!” and there seemed to 
be a return of his queer, tragic manner. 

“T am connected with the Equatorial Railroad 
Company,” he resumed, after a momentary pause, 
during which he seemed to regain control of 
himself. ‘‘ Our company has recently decided to 
have a series of moving pictures made, showing 
life m our section of the South American jungle, 
and also what we have done in the matter of 


A DELAYED LETTER 35 


railroad transportation, to redeem the jungle, and 
make it more fit for habitation. 

* As one of the means of interesting the pub- 
lic, and, I may say, in interesting capitalists, mov- 
ing pictures were suggested. The idea was my 
own, and was adopted, and I was appointed to 
arrange the matter. But in order that the right 
kind of moving pictures might be obtained, so 
that they would help the work of our railroad, 
I decided I must know something of the details 
— how the pictures are made, how the cameras 
are constructed, how the pictures are projected 
-—in short all I could learn about the business I 
desired to learn. 

“My company sent me to New York, and 
there, on inquiry, I learned of the Film Theatrical 
Company. I had letters of introduction, and I 
soon met Mr. Hadley. He seems to be in chargé 
of this branch of the work — I mean outdoor pic« 
tures.”’ 

“Yes, that’s his line,” said Joe. “Mr. Rin- 
gold attends to the dramatic end of it. We have 
done work for both branches.” 

“So I was told,” went on Mr. Alcando. “f 
asked to be assigned a teacher, and offered to pay 
well for it. And Mr. Hadley at once suggested 
that you two boys would be the very ones who 
eould best give me what I desired. 


36 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


' “ He told me that you had just returned from 
the dangers of the Mississippi flood section, and 
were up here resting. But I made so bold upon 
myself to come here to entreat you to let me ac- 
company you to Panama.” 

Mr. Alcando came to a stop after his rather 
lengthy and excited explanation. 

“But Great Scott!” exclaimed Blake. “* We 
don’t know anything about going to Panama. 
iWe haven’t the least idea of going there, and 
the first we've heard of it is the mention in this 
letter you bring from Mr. Hadley.” 

“It sure is queer,” said Joe. “I wonder if 
any of our mail —” 

He was interrupted by the sound of rapid foot- 
steps, and a freckle-faced and red-haired boy, with 
a ragged straw hat, and no shoes came running 


up. 

“ Say — say!” panted the urchin. “Tm glad 
I found you. Here’s a letter for you. Pa— 
pa — he’s been carryin’ it around in his pocket, 
and when he changed his coat just now it dropped. 
out. He sent me down with it, lickity-split,” 
‘and the boy held out an envelope bearing a spe- 
cial delivery stamp. Blake took the missive me- 
chanically. | 


CHAPTER V 
ANOTHER SURPRISE 


Wutte Blake was tearing off the end of the 
envelope, preparatory to taking out the enclosure, 
Joe looked sharply at the red-haired lad who had 
so unexpectedly delivered it. 

“How'd your father come to get our letter, 
Sam?” asked Joe, for the lad was the son of 
a farmer, who lived neighbor to Mr. Baker. 

“Sim Rolinson, the postmaster, give it to him, 
I guess,* volunteered Sam. “Sim generally 
takes around the special delivery letters himself, 
but he must have been busy when this one come 
in, and he give it to pa. Anyhow, pa says he 
asked him to deliver it.”’ 

eouly he didn’t. do! it,” put in Joe. “Lf 
thought something was the matter with our mail 
that we hadn’t heard from New York lately. 
‘Your father was carrying the letter around in his 
pocket.”’ 

“ But he didn’t mean to!” spoke Sam quickly. 
“He forgot all about it until to-day, when he 

37 


38 ‘MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


was changing his coat, and it fell out. Then he 
made me scoot over here with it as fast as I 
could. He said he was sorry, and hoped he 
hadn’t done any damage.” 

“Well, I guess not much,” Joe responded, for, 
after all, it was an accommodation to have the 
letters brought out from the post-office by the 
neighbors, as often happened. ‘That one should 
be forgotten, and carried in a pocket, was not so 
very surprising. 

“Then you won’t make any fuss?” the bare- 
foot lad went on, eagerly. 

““No— why should we?” mquired Joe with 
a smile. “‘ We won’t inform the postal authori- 
ties. I guess it wasn’t so very important,” and 
he looked at Blake, who was reading the delayed 
letter. | 

“Whew!” finally whistled Joe’s chum. “ This 
is going some!”’ 

“ What's up now?” 

“ Another surprise,” answered Blake. “‘ This 
day seems to be filled with ’em.” 

“Ts it about Panama? ” | 

“You've guessed it. Mr. Hadley wants us to’ 
go there and get a series of moving pictures. In- 
cidentally he mentions that he is sending to us 
a gentleman who wants to go with us, if we de- 
eide to go. I presume he refers to you,” and 


ANOTHER SURPRISE 39 


[Blake modded in the direction of Mr. Alcando. 

“ Then you have confirmatory evidence of what 
my letter says?” asked the Spaniard, bowing po- 
litely. : 

“ That’s what it amounts to,” Blake made an- 
swer. “ Though, of course, seeing that this is 
the first we’ve had Panama brought up to us, we 
don’t really know what to say about going there.” 

“ Hardly,” agreed Joe, at a look from his 
chum. 

_“ And yet you may go; shall you not?” asked 
the Spaniard, quickly. He seemed very eager for 
an answer. 

“ Oh, yes, we may — it’s not altogether out of 
the question,” said Blake. “ We'll have to think 
about it, though.” 

“ And if you do go, may I have the honor of 
accompanying you to the Isthmus?” Again he 
seemed very anxious. 

“Well, of course, if Mr. Hadley wants you 
to go with us we'll take you,’ answered Joe 
slowly. ‘We are employed by Mr. Hadley, as 
one of the owners of the Film Theatrical Com- 
pany, and what he says generally goes.” 

“ Ah, but, gentlemen, I should not want you to 
take me under compulsion!” exclaimed the Span- 
ard, quickly. “I would like to go—as your 
friend!” and he threw out his hands in an im- 


40 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


pulsive, appealing gesture. “As a friend!” he 
repeated. 3 | 

“Well, I guess that could be arranged,” re- 
turned Blake with a smile, for he had taken a 
liking to the young man, though he did not alto- 
gether understand him. ‘‘ We'll have to think it 
over.” 

“Oh, of course. I should not ask for a de- 
cision now,’ said Mr. Alcando quickly. “I 
shall return to my hotel in the village, and come 
out to see you when I may—when you have 
made your decision. I feel the need of a little 
rest—after my narrow escape. And that it 
should be you who saved my life — you of all!” 

Again the boys noted his peculiar manner. 

““T guess we had better be getting back,” sug- 
gested Hank. “Have to foot it to town, 
though,” he added regretfully, as he looked at the 
smashed carriage. “I hope the boss doesn’t 
blame me for this,” and his voice was rueful. 

“IT shall take it upon myself to testify in your 
favor,” said the Spaniard with courtly grace. 
“Tt was an unavoidable accident — the breaking 
of the rein, and the maddened dash of the horse 
off the bridge. That we did not follow was a 
miracle. I shall certainly tell your employer — 
as you say your boss,” and he smiled —“I shall 
tell him you could not help it.” 


ANOTHER SURPRISE 4.t 


“Td take it kindly if you would,” added Hank, 
“for Rex, though he had a terrible temper, was 
a valuable horse. Well, he won’t run away any 
more, that’s one sure thing. I guess that car- 
‘Tiage can be patched up.” 

_ “Why don’t you ask Mr. Baker to lend you a 
rig?”’ suggested Blake. “‘I’m sure he would. 
I'll tell him how it happened.” 

“ That is kind of you, sir. You place me more 
_ than ever in your debt,” spoke the Spaniard, bow- 
ing again. 

“How did you know we were here?” asked 
Joe of the boy who had brought the delayed spe- 
cial delivery letter. 

“I stopped at Mr. Baker’s house,” Sam ex- 
plained, “and Mrs. Baker said’ she saw you come 
down this w4y on your motor cycle. She said 
you'd just been on a ride, and probably wouldn’t 
go far, so I ran on, thinking I’d meet you com- 
ing back. I didn’t know anything about the ac- 
cident,” he concluded, his eyes big with wonder 
as he looked at the smashed carriage. 

“Are you able to walk back to the farmhouse 
where we are boarding?” asked Blake of Mr. 
Alcando. “If not we could get Mr. Baker to 
drive down here.” 

“Oh, thank you, I am perfectly able to walk, 
thanks to your quickness in preventing the car- 


42 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


riage and ourselves from toppling into the 
chasm,” replied the Spaniard. 

Hank, with Mr. Alcando and Sam, walked 
back along the road, while Blake and Joe 
went to where they had dropped their motor 
cycle. They repaired the disconnected gasoline 
pipe, and rode on ahead to tell Mr. Baker of the 
coming of the others. The farmer readily agreed 
to lend his horse and carriage so that the unfor- 
tunate ones would not have to walk into town, 
a matter of three miles. 

“T shall remain at the Central Falls hotel 
for a week or more, or until you have fully made 
up your mind about the Panama trip,” said Mr. 
Alcando on leaving the boys, “and I shall come 
out, whenever you send me word, to learn of your 
decision. That it may be a favorable one I need 
hardly say I hope,” he added with a low bow. 

“We'll let you know as soon as we can,” 
promised Blake. ‘“ But my chum and I will have 
to think it over. We have hardly become rested 
from taking flood pictures.” 

“TI can well believe that, from what I have 
heard of your strenuotts activities.” 

“Well, what do you think about it all?” asked 
Joe, as he and his chum sat on the shady porch 
an hour or so after the exciting incidents I have 
just narrated. 


ANOTHER SURPRISE yk 


“TI hardly know,” answered Blake. ‘I guess 
Vi have another go at Mr. Hadley’s letter. I 
didn’t half read it.” 
| He took the missive from his pocket, and again 
perused it. It contained references to other mat- 
ters besides the projected Parama trip, and there 
was also enclosed a check for some work the mov- 
ing picture boys had done. _ 

But as it is with the reference to the big canal 
that we are interested we shall confine ourselves 
to that part of Mr. Hadley’s letter. 


“No doubt you will be surprised,” he wrote, 
“to learn what I have in prospect for you. I 
know you deserve a longer vacation than you 
have had this summer, but I think, too, that you 
would not wish to miss this chance. 

“ Of course if you do not want to go to Pan- 
ama I can get some other operators to work the 
moving picture cameras, but I would rather have 
you than anyone I know of. So I hope you will 
accept. : 

“The idea is this: The big canal is nearing 
completion, and the work is now at a stage when 
it will make most interesting films. Then, too, 
there is another matter — the big slides. There 
have been several small ones, doing considerable 
damage, but no more than has been counted on. 


ip 


that there is. caneiea in Culebra Cut . Res. 
strous big slide, one that will beat anything th 


ever before took place there. If it does happen 


I want to get moving pictures, not only of the 


slide, but of scenes afterward, and also pinta 
x 


showing the clearing away of the débris. 
“Whether this slide will occur I do not. know: 

No one knows for a certainty, but a man who - 

has lived in Panama almost since the French 


Rees it comes. 


~ © Now another matter. ay die io ae 
get this you will be visited by a Spanish gentleman — 
named veers Alcando. He will have. a ee 





ANOTHER SURPRISE 45 


to go to Panama at all, don’t hesitate to say so. 
But I would like very much to have you. Some- 
one must go, for the films from down there will 
be particularly valuable at this time, in view of 
_ the coming opening of the Canal for the passage 
of vessels. So if you don’t want to go, someone 
else representing us will have to make the trip. 

“Now think the matter over well before you 
decide. I think you will find Mr. Alcando a 
pleasant companion. He struck me as being a 
gentleman, though his views on some things are 
the views of a foreigner. But that does not 
matter. 

“Of course, as usual, we will pay you boys 
well, and meet all expenses. It is too bad to 
break in on your vacation again, as we did to 
get the flood pictures, but the expected big slide, 
like the flood, won’t wait, and won’t last very 
long. You have to be ‘ Johnnie on the Spot’ to 
get the views. I will await your answer.” 


CHAPTER VI 
SOMETHING QUEER 


For a little while, after he had read to Joe 
whe letter from Mr. Hadley, Blake remained si- 
Jent. Nor did his chum speak. When he did 
epen his lips it was to ask: 

“Well, what do you think of it, Blake? ” 

Blake drew a long breath, and replied, ques- 
‘Aoningly : 

“What do you think of it?” 

*T asked you first!” laughed Joe. “No, but 
seriously, what do you make of it all?” 

“ Make of it? You mean going to Panama?” 

“Yes, and this chap Alcando. What do you 
think of him?” 

Blake did not answer at once. 

“Well?” asked Joe, rather impatiently. 

* Did anything — that is, anything that fellow 
said — or did — strike you as being — well, let's 
say—— queer?” and Blake looked his chum 
squarely in the face. 

“Queer? (Yes, I guess there did! Of course 


SOMETHING QUEER 47, 


he was excited about the runaway, and he did 
have a narrow escape, if I do say it myself. Only 
for us he and Hank would have toppled down into 
that ravine.’ 

“ That’s right,” assented Blake. 

“But what struck me as queer,’”’ resumed Joe, 
*“was that he seemed put out because it was we 
who saved him. He acted-—HI mean the Span- 
iard- did—as though he would have been glad 
if someone else had saved his life.” 

“Just how it struck me!” cried Blake. “TI 
wondered if you felt the same. But perhaps it 
was only because he was unduly excited. We 
might have misjudged him.” 

“Possibly,” admitted Joe. “ But, even if we 
didn’t, and he really is sorry it was we who saved 
him, I don’t see that it need matter. He is prob- 
ably so polite that the reason he objects is be- 
cause he didn’t want to put us to so much trou- 
ble.” 

“Perhaps,” agreed Blake. “As you say, it 
doesn’t much matter. I rather like him,” 

‘“So do I,” assented Joe. ‘‘ But he sure is 
queer, in some ways. Quite dramatic. Why, 
you'd think he was on the stage the way he went 
on after he learned that we two, who had saved 
him, were the moving picture boys to whom he 
had a letter of introduction.” 





48 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“Yes. I wonder what it all meant?” observed 
Blake. : 

The time was to come when he and Joe were 
to learn, in a most sensational manner, the rea- 
son for the decidedly queer actions of Mr. Al- 
cando. 

For some time longer the chums sat and talked. 
But as the day waned, and the supper hour ap- 
proached, they were no nearer a decision than be- 
fore. 

“Let’s let it go until morning,’ suggested 
Blake. 

“Tm with you,” agreed Joe. “ We can think 
better after we have ‘ slept on it.’ ” 

Joe was later than Blake getting up next morn- 
ing, and when he saw his chum sitting out in a 
hammock under a tree in the farmyard, Joe no- 
ticed that Blake was reading a book. 
~ “You're the regular early worm this morn- 
ing; aren’t you?’’ called Joe. “It’s a wonder 
some bird hasn’t flown off with you.” 

“T’m too tough a morsel,” Blake answered with 
a laugh. “ Besides, I’ve been on the jump too 
much to allow an ordinary bird the chance. 
(What’s the matter with you — oversleep? ” 

“No, I did it on purpose. I was tired. But 
what’s that you’re reading; and what do you mean 
about being on the jump?” 


SOMETHING QUEER 49 


“Oh, I just took a little run into the village 
after breakfast, on the motor cycle.” 

“You did! ‘To tell that Spaniard he could, or 
could not, go with us?” 

“Oh, I didn’tjsee him. I just went into the 
~ town library. You know they’ve got a fairly de- 
cent one at Central Falls.” 

“Yes, so I heard; but I didn’t suppose they'd 
be open so early in the morning.” 

“They weren't. I had to wait, and I was the 
first customer, if you can call it that.” 

“You are getting studious!’ laughed Joe. 
** Great Scott! Look at what he’s reading!” he 
went on as he caught a glimpse of the title of 
the book. ‘“‘‘ History of the Panama Canal’ 
Whew!” 

“It’s a mighty interesting book! ” declared 
Blake. ‘ You'll like it.” 

“ Perhaps — if I read it,” said Joe, drily. 

“Oh, I fancy you'll want to read it,” went on 
Blake, significantly. 

“Say!” cried Joe, struck with a sudden idea. 
‘You've made up your mind to go to Panama; 
haven’t you?” | 

iW elt:? pegan his chum slowly! “T haven't 
fully decided — 

“Oh, piffle!”’ cried Joe with a laugh. “ Ex- 
euse my slang, but I know just how it is,” he 


50 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


proceeded. ‘“ You’ve made up your mind to go, 
and you're getting all the advance information 
you can, to spring iton me. I know your tricks. 
Well, you won’t go without me; will you?” 

“ You know I’d never do that,” was the answer, 
spoken rather more solemnly than Joe’s laughing | 
words deserved. “You know we promised to 
stick together when we came away from the farms 
and started in this moving picture business, and 
we have stuck. I don’t want to break the com- 
bination; do you?” 

“T should say not! And if you go to Panama 
I go too!” 

“TI haven’t actually made up my mind,” went 
on Blake, who was, perhaps, a little more serious, 
and probably a deeper thinker than his chum. 
“ But I went over it in my mind last night, and 
I didn’t just see how we could refuse Mr. Had- 
ley’s request. 

“You know he started us in this nisinees and, 
only for him we might never have amounted to 
much. So if he wants us to go to Panama, and 
get views of the giant slides, volcanic eruptions, 
and so on, I, for one, think we ought to go.” 

“So do I— for two!”’ chimed in Joe. ‘“‘ But 
are there really volcanic eruptions down there?” 

“Well, there have been, in times past, and there 
might be again. Anyhow, the slides are always 


SOMETHING QUEER © 51 


more or less likely to occur. I was just reading 
about them in this book. 

“Culebra Cut! That’s where the really stu- 
pendous work of the Panama Canal came in. 
Think of it, Joe! Nine miles long, with an aver- 
age depth of 120 feet, and at some places the 
sides go up 500 feet above the bed of the channel. 
Why the Suez Canal is a’farm ditch alongside of 
it!” | 

“Whew!” whistled Joe. ‘ You’re there with 
the facts already, Blake.”’ 

“ They're so interesting I cotildn’t help but re- 
member them,” said Blake with a smile. ‘‘ This 
“book has a lot in it about the big landslides. At 
first they were terribly discouraging to the work- 
ers. They practically put the French engineers, 
who started the Canal, out of the running, and 
even when the United States engineers started 
figuring they didn’t allow enough leeway for the 
Culebra slides. 

“ At first they decided that a ditch about eight 
hundred feet wide would be enough to keep the 
top soil from slipping down. But they finally 
had to make it nearly three times that width, or 
eighteen hundred feet at the top, so as to make 
the sides slope gently enough.” 

“And yet slides occur even now,” remarked 
Joe, dubiously. 


52. MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“Yes, because the work isn’t quite finished.” 

‘“‘ And we’re going to get one of those slides on 
our films?” 

“Tf we go, yes; and I don’t see but what we'd 
better go.”’ | 

“Then I’m with you, Blake, old man!”’ cried 
Joe, affectionately slapping his chum on the back 
with such energy that the book flew out of the 
other’s hands. 

“Look out what you’re doing or you'll get the 
librarian after you!” cried Blake, as he picked 
up the volume. “ Well, then, we'll consider it 
settled — we'll go to Panama?” 

He looked questioningly at his chum. 

“Yes, I guess so. Have you told that Span- 
jard?”’ 

“No, not yet, of course. I haven't seen him 
since you did. But I fancy we’d better write to 
Mr. Hadley first, and let him know we will go. 
He'll wonder why we haven’t written before. 
(We can explain about the delayed letter.” 

“ All right, and when we hear from him, and 
learn more of his plans, we can let Mr. Alcando 
hear from us. I guess we can mosey along with 
him all right.” 

“Yes, and we'll need a helper with the cam- 
eras and things. He can be a sort of assistant 
while he’s learning the ropes.” 


SOMETHING QUEER 53 


A letter was written to the moving picture man 
in New York, and while waiting for an answer 
Blake and Joe spent two days visiting places of 
interest about Central Falls. 

“Tf this is to be another break in our va- 
tation we want to make the most of it,” suggested 
Joe. 

“'That’s right,” agreed Blake. They had not 
yet given the Spaniard a definite answer regard- 
ing his joining them. 

“Tt does not matter —the haste, young gen- 
tlemen,’” Mr. Alcando had said with a smile that 
showed his white teeth, in strong contrast to his 
dark complexion. “I am not in so much of a 
haste. As we say, in my tees there is al- 
Ways mafiana — to-morrow.” 

Blake and Joe, while they found the Spantird 
very pleasant, could not truthfully say that they 

felt for him the comradeship they might have 
manifested toward one of their own nationality. 
He was polite and considerate toward them — 
almost too polite at times, but that came natural. 
to him, perhaps. 
| He was a little older than Joe and Blake, but 
he did not take advantage of that. He seemed 
to have fully recovered from the accident, though 
there was a nervousness in his actions at times 
that set the boys to wondering. And, occaston- 


54. MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT.PANAMA 


ally, Blake or Joe would catch him surreptitiously 
looking at them in a strange manner. 

“T wonder what's up?’’ said Blake to Joe, 
after one of those occasions, “He sure does act 
queer.” | | 

“That’s what I say,” agreed Joe. “It’s just 
as though he were sorry he had to be under ob- 
ligations to us, if you can call it that, for saving 
his life.”’ 

“ That’s how it impresses me. But perhaps we 
only imagine it. Hello, here comes Mr. Baker 
with the mail! We ought to hear from New 
York.” 

“Hasn’t Birdie Lee written yet?” asked Joe. 

‘Oh, drop that!’’ warned Blake, his eyes flash- 
ing. 

There was a letter from Mr. Hadley, in which 
he conveyed news and information that made 
Blake and Joe definitely decide to make the trip to 
(Panama. 

“ And take Aleando with us? ”’ asked Joe. 

** I suppose so,” said Blake, though it could not 
be said that his assent was any too cordial. 

“Then we'd better tell him, so he'll know it is 
settled.” 

“All right. We can ride over on the motor 
cycle.” 

A little later, after a aie trip on the “ gaso- 


SOMETHING QUEER 55 


line bicycle,” the moving picture boys were at the 
only hotel of which Central Falls boasted. Mr. 
Alcando was in his room, the clerk informed the 
boys, and they were shown up. 

“Enter!” called the voice of the Spaniard, as 
they knocked. “Ah, it is you, my young 
friends!” he cried, as he saw them, and getting 
up hastily from a table on which were many 
‘ papers, he began hastily piling books on top of 
them. of 

“ For all the world,” said Joe, later, “as though 
he were afraid we'd see something.” 

“T am delighted that you have called,’ the 
Spaniard said, “and I hope you bring me good 
news.” 

“Yes,” said Blake, “ we are going —” 

As he spoke there came in through the window 
a puff of air, that scattered the papers on the 
table. One, seemingly part of a letter, was blown 
to Blake’s feet. He picked it up, and, as he 
handed it back to Mr. Alcando, the lad could not 
help seeing part of a sentence. It read: 

“. . go to Panama, get all the pictures 
you can, especially the big guns. . . .” 


Blake felt himself staring eagerly at the last 
words. 3 


CHAPTER VII 
IN NEW YORK 


* Au, my letters have taken unto themselves 
wings,’ laughed the Spaniard, as he stooped to 
pick up the scattered papers. “ And you have © 
assisted me in saving them,” he went on, as he 
took the part of the epistle Blake held out to 
him. | 

As he did so Mr. Alcando himself had a glimpse 
of the words Blake had thought so strange. The 
foreigner must have, in a manner, sensed Blake’s 
suspicions, for he said, quickly: 

“That is what it is not to know your wonderful 
American language. I, myself, have much strug- 
gles with it, and so do my friends. I had writ- 
ten to one of them, saying I expected to go to 
Panama, and he writes in his poor English, that 
he hopes I do go, and that I get all the pictures I 
can, especially big ones.” 

He paused for a moment, looking at Blake 
sharply, the boy thought. Then the Spaniard 
went on: 


“Only, unfortunately for him, he does not yet 
56 | 


IN NEW. YORK 54 


know the difference between ‘ guns’ and ‘ ones.’ 
What he meant to say was that he hoped I would 
get big pictures —big ones, you know. And I 
hope I do. I suppose you do take big moving 
pictures — I mean pictures of big scenes, do you 
not?”’ and he included Joe in the question he 
asked. 

“Oh, yes, we’ve taken some pretty big ones,” 
Blake’s chum admitted, as he thought of the time 
when they had so recently been in the flooded 
Mississippi Valley, and when they had risked 
danger and death in the jungle, and in earth- 
quake land. 

“Though, I suppose,’ went on Mr. Alcando, 
as he folded the part of a letter Blake had picked 
up, “I suppose there are big guns at Panama — 
if one could get pictures of them—eh?” and 
again he looked sharply at Blake— for what 
reason our hero could not determine. 

“ Oh, yes, there are big guns down there,” said 
Joe. “I forget their size, and how far they can 
hurl a projectile. But we’re not likely to get a 
chance to take any pictures, moving or other- 
wise, of the defenses. I fancy they are a sort 
of government secret.” 

“YT should think so,” spoke Blake, and there 
was a curious restraint in his manner, at which 
Joe wondered. 


58 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


“Yes, we probably won’t get much chance to 
see the big guns,” went on the Spaniard. “ But 
TI am content if I learn how to become a moving 
picture operator. I shall write to my friend and 
tell him the difference between the word ‘ one’ 
and ‘gun.’ He will laugh when he finds out 
his mistake; will he not?’” and he glanced at 
Blake. | 

“ Probably,’ was the answer. Blake was do- 
ing some hard thinking just then. 

“ But so you have decided to go to the Canal? ” 
asked the Spaniard, when he had collected his 
scattered papers. 

“Yes, we are going down there,’ answered 
Blake, “and as Mr. Hadley wishes you to go 
along, of course we'll take you with us, and teach 
you all we know.” 

“TI hope I shall not be a burden to you, or 
cause you any trouble,” responded the Spaniard, 
politely, with a frank and engaging smile. 

“Oh, no, not at all!’ returned Joe, cordially. 
He had taken quite a liking to the chap, and an- 
ticipated pleasure in his company. Usually when 
he and Blake went off on moving picture excur- 
sions they had some members of the Film Theat- 
rical Company with them, or they met friends 
on the way, or at their destination. But neither 
C. C. Piper, nor any of the other actors were 


IN NEW YORK 59 


going to the Canal, so Blake and Joe would have 
had to go alone had it not been for the advent of 
Mr. Alcando. 

“We're very glad to have you with us,’’ added 
' Blake. ‘‘ How soon can you be ready to go?” 

““Whenever you are. I can leave to-day, if 
necessary.” | 
. “There isn’t any necessity for such a rush as 
that,” Blake said, with a laugh. ‘“ We'll finish 
out our week’s vacation, and then go to New 
York. Our cameras will need overhauling after 
the hard service they got in the flood, and we'll 
have to stay in New York about a week to get 
things in shape. So we'll probably start for the 
Canal in about two weeks.” 

“That will suit me excellently. I shall be all 
teady for you,’ said the Spaniard. 

“ Then I’ll write to Mr. Hadley to expect us,” 
Blake added. 

The boys left Mr. Alcando straightening out 
his papers, and started back through the town to 
the farm. 

“What made you act so funny, Blake, when 
you picked up that piece of paper?”’ asked Joe, 
when they had alighted from their motor cycle at 
the Baker homestead a little later. 

“Well, to tell you the truth, Joe, I was a bit 
suspicious,” 


aie « What about; that gun business?” th aetna 
“Yes,” and Blake’s voice was serious. 
“Buttermilk and corn cakes!” cried Joe with: : 
a laugh. “ You don’t mean to say you think this 
fellow is an international spy; do you? — Trying 
to get secrets of the United States fortifications | 
at the Canal?” } 
~. Well, I don’t know as I exactly bellu that, : 
Joe, and yet it was strange someone should be 
writing to him about the big guns.” | 
ec Ves, maybe; but then he pe it al , 
right.” iS 
“You mean he tried to explain it.” 


“Oh, well, if you look at it that way, of cours 
you'll be suspicious. But I don’t believe any- 
thing of the sort. It was just a blunder of som 
one who didn’t know how, trying to. write th 
English language ’ inna 

“It’s all nonsense to think he’s a spy. 


ey i Wevarned Blake’ almost wavering. 
Maybe I am wrong.” 
“Yes, I think you are,’ 

‘ N and I think we'll 





IN NEW YORK 6r 


“We'll have hard work, that’s one thing sure,” 
[Blake declared. “It isn’t going to be easy to 
get good pictures of the big ditch. And waiting 
for one of those Culebra Cut slides is going to 
be like camping on the trail of 4 volcano, I think. 
(You can’t tell when it’s going to happen.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Joe with, a laugh. 
-* Well, we'll do the best we can, old man. And 
now let’s go on a picnic, or something, to finish 
out our vacation. We won't get another this 
year, perhaps.” 

“Let’s go down and see how they’re coming 
on with the new bridge, where the horse tried 
to jump over the ravine,” suggested Blake, and, 
a little later they were speeding in that direc- 
tion. | | 

The final week of their stay in the country 
went by quickly enough, and though the boys.ap- 
preciated their vacation in the quiet precincts of 
Central Falls, they were not altogether sorry when 
the time came to leave. 

For, truth to tell, they were very enthusiastic 
about their moving picture work, and though they 
were no fonder of a “ grind” than any real boys 
are, they were always ready to go back to the 
clicking cranks that unwound the strips of cellu- 
loid film, which caught on its sensitive surface 
the impressions of so many wonderful scenes. 


62 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


They called at the hotel one evening to tell 


Mr. Alcando that they were going to New York » 


the following day, and that he could, if he wished, 
accompany them. But they found he had al- 
ready left. He had written them a note, how- 
ever, in which he said he would meet them im 
the metropolis at the offices of the moving pic- 
ture concern, and there complete plans for the 
trip to Panama. 

“Queer he didn’t want to go in to New York 
with us,” said Blake. 

“There you go again!” laughed Joe. “ Get- 
ting suspicious again. Take it easy, Blake.” 

“Well, maybe I am a bit too ree admitted 
his chum. 

Their trip to, and arrival in, New York was 
unattended by any incidents worth chronicling, 
and, taking a car at the Grand Central Terminal, 
they were soon on their way to the film stu- 
dios. 
“Well, well! If it isn’t Blake and Joe!” cried 
C. C. Piper, the grouchy actor, as he saw them 
come in. “ My, but I am glad to see you!” and 
he shook their hands warmly. 

“Glad something pleases you,” said Miss Shay, 
with a shrug of her shoulders. “ You’ve done 
nothing but growl ever since this rehearsal 
started.”” Blake and Joe had arrived during an 


IN NEW YORK 63 


intermission in the taking of the studio scenes of 
a new drama. | 

“Is he as bad as ever?” asked Joe of Mabel 
Pierce, the new member of the company. 

“Well, I don’t know him very well,” she said, 
with a little blush. 

“He's worse!” declared Nettie Shay. “I 
wish you'd take him out somewhere, boys, and 
find him a good nature. He’s a positive bear!” 

“Oh, come now, not as bad as that!” cried 
Mr. Piper. “Iam glad to see you boys, though,” 
and really he seemed quite delighted. ‘ What’s 
on?”’’ heasked. “ Are you going with us to Cali- 
fornia? We're going to do a series of stunts 
_ there, I hear.” 

“Sorry, but we’re not booked to go,” said 
Blake. “I guess it’s Panama and the Canal for 
us.” 

Mr. Piper seemed to undergo a quick and curi- 
ous change. His face, that had been lighted by, 
a genial smile, became dull and careworn. His 
manner lost its joyousness. 

““That’s too bad!” he exclaimed. “ Panama! 
You're almost sure to be buried alive under one 
of the big Culebra slides, and we'll never see you 
again!” 


CHAPTER VIII 
OFF FOR PANAMA 


THERE was a moment of silence following Mr. 
Piper’s gloomy prediction, and then Miss Shay, 
with a laugh, cried out: 

“Oh, whatashame! I'd keep still if I couldn’t 
say anything nicer than that.” 

“ Not very cheerful; is he?”’ spoke Joe. 

** About the same as usual,’’ commented Blake, 
drily. 

“Well, it’s true, just the same!’’ declared C. 
C. Piper, with an air of conviction, 

““The truth is not to be spoken—at all 
times,’ ’ quoted Miss Pierce. 

“Good for you!” whispered Joe. 

C. C. seemed a little put out at all the criticism 
leveled at him. 

“Ahem!” he exclaimed. ‘“ Of course I don’t 
mean that I want to see ee ae caught in a 
landslide — far from it, but — 

“ But, if we are going to be caught that way, 


you hope there will be moving pictures of it}; 
64 


OFF FOR PANAMA 65 


don’t you, C. C.?” laughed Blake. “ Now, 
there’s no use trying to get out of it!’ he added, 
as the gloomy actor stuttered and stammered. 
*We know what you mean. But where is Mr, 
Ringold; or Mr. Hadley?” 

“They're around somewhere,” explained Miss 
Shay, when the other members of the company, 
with whom they had spent so many happy and 
exciting days, had offered their greetings. “ Are 
you in such a hurry to see them?” she asked of 
Blake. 

* Oh, not in such an awful hurry,” he answered 
with a laugh, as Birdie Lee came out of a dress- 
ing room, smiling rosily at him. 

“I guess not!” laughed Miss Shay. 

Soon the interval between the scenes of the 
drama then being “ filmed,’ or photographed, 
came to an end. The actors and actresses took 
their places in a “ball room,” that was built on 
one section of the studio floor. 

“Ready!” called the manager to the camera 
operator, and as the music of an unseen orchestra 
played, so that the dancing might be in perfect 
time, the camera began clicking and the action 
of the play, which included an exciting episode 
in the midst of the dance, went on. It was a 
gay scene, for the ladies and gentlemen were 
dressed in the “height of fashion.” 














aie was necessary to have every detail faithfully 
reproduced, for the eye of the moving picture 
camera is more searching, and far-seeing, than 
~ any human eye, and records every defect, no mat- 
ter how small. And when it is recalled that the. 
picture thrown on the screen is magnified many 

_ hundred times, a small defect, as can readily. be. 
; understood, becomes a very large one. Racy. 
So great care is taken to have everything a as. 
_ nearly perfect as possible. Blake and Joe 
watched the filming of the drama, recalling the 
time when they used to turn the handle of the 
camera at the same work, before they were 
ae chosen to go out after bigger pictures — scenes 
from real life. The operator, a young: fellow 
et whom both Blake and shes knew, looked around 












wrong. 
Don't you wish you had Hee easy yjobe” ic | 
ah operator ASKEC. Ly ve 
“We may, before we come » back from ; 
; ama,” answered Blake. | . 







OFF FOR PANAMA 67 


they could be arranged in advance, were gone 
over. 

“What we want,” said Mr. Hadley, “is a se- 
ries of pictures about the Canal. It will soon 
be open for regular traffic, you know, and, in 
fact some vessels have already gone through it. 
But the work is not yet finished, and we want 
you to film the final touches. 

“Then, too, there may be accidents — there 
have been several small ones of late, and, as I 
wrote you, a man who claims to have made a 
study of the natural forces in Panama declares a 
big slide is due soon. 

““Of course we won’t wish the canal any bad 
luck, and we don’t for a moment want that slide 
to happen. Only —” 

“If it does come you want it filmed!” inter- 
rupted Blake, with a laugh. 

“That's it, exactly!’’ exclaimed Mr. Rin- 
gold. 

“You'll find plenty down there to take pic- 
tures of,” said Mr. Hadley. “‘ We want scenes 
along the Canal. Hire a vessel and take moving 
pictures as you go along in her. Go through 
the Gatun locks, of course. Scenes as your boat 
goes in them, and the waters rise, and then go 
down again, ought to make a corking picture!” 

Mr. Hadley was growing enthusiastic. 





















Lig Get some oe scenes to ween in “also? h 
_ directed. “In short, get scenes you think a visi- 
tor to the Panama Canal would be interested i hss 
seeing. Some of the films will be a feature at 
the Panama Exposition in California, and we 
expect to make big nn from them, so do your: 
MEST: « | 
“We will!” promised Joe, and. Blake nodded 
im acquiescence. : 
* You met the young Spaniard who had a eee ‘ 
__ of introduction to you; did you not?” asked Mr. 
Hadley, after a pause. | bbe A 
“Ves,” answered Blake. “ Met him indeed 
: rather queer circumstances, too. I ee we 
hinted at them in our letter.” : 
“A mere mention,” responded Mr. Hadley. 
-“T should be glad to hear the details.” ae Blake 
and Joe, in turn, told of the runaway. 
“What do you think of him—TI mean Mr 
Alcando?” asked the moving picture man. 
“Why, he seems all right,” spoke Joe slowly, | 
Vee a 
_ looking at Blake to give him a chance to sa 
anything if he wanted to. “I like him.” ey 
. “Glad to hear it!” exclaimed Mr. 
heartily. “He came to us well recommend 
a fst as I think I explained, our “company is unde 












OFF FOR PANAMA 69 


He explained, did he not, that his company, 
wished to show scenes along the line of their rail- 
road, to attract prospective customers? ” 

“Yes, he told us that,”’ observed Joe. 

“What's the matter, Blake, haven’t you any- 
thing to say?” asked Mr. Hadley in a curious 
voice, turning to Joe’s chum. ‘‘ How does the 
Spaniard strike you?” 

“Well, he seems all right,’ was Blake’s slow 
answer. “ Only I think —’ 

“ Blake thinks he’s an international spy, I 
guess!” broke in Joe with a laugh. “Tell him 
about the ‘ big guns,’ Blake.” 

“What's that?” asked Mr. Hadley, quickly. 

Whereupon Blake told of the wind-blown letter 
and his first suspicions. 

“Oh, that’s all nonsense!” laughed Mr. Had- 
ley. “‘ We have investigated his credentials, and 
find them all right. Besides, what object would 
a South American spy have in finding out details 
of the defenses at Panama. South America would 
work to preserve the Canal; not to destroy it. If 
‘it were some European nation now, that would 
be a different story. You don’t need to worry, 
Blake.” | 

“No, I suppose it is foolish. But I’m glad 
to know you think Mr. Alcando all right. If 
we've got to live in close companionship with 


"MOVING PICTURE Boys AT | 


IN 


cose is all right. Now ion are we to Stare aoe 
do we go, where shall we make our headquarters, 
and so on?” Ley aaa a 
© Ves, you will want some \aeeatiby informa- 
tion, I expect,” agreed the moving picture man. 
Well, I’m ready to give it to you. I have’ 
already made some arrangements for you. You 
will take a steamer to Colon, make your head- 4 


Cia? 
Soo Then Joe and Thad Hofer be acing up fo 
i the trip,’ suggested Blake. ; 
| “Yes, the sooner the better. 


: _ Mr. ‘Hadley handed Blake a card, naming a cer : 
‘ Bain B upton hotel. — 





OFF FOR PANAMA, 7. 


Blake and Joe went to call on their Spanish 
friend. 

“ Aren't you glad to know he isn’t a spy, or 
anything like that?’’ asked Joe of his chum. 

“Yes, of course I am, and yet —” 

“ Still suspicious I see,” laughed Joe. ‘“* Better 
‘drop it.” 

Blake did not answer. 

Inquiry of the hotel clerk gave Blake and Joe 
the information that Mr. Alcando was in his 
room, and, being shown to the apartment by a 
bell-boy, Blake knocked on the door. 

“Who's there? Wait a moment!” came in 
rather sharp accents from a voice the moving 
picture boys recognized as that of Mr. Alcando. 

“Tt is Blake Stewart and Joe Duncan,” said 
the former lad. “‘ We have called —”’ 

“TI beg your pardon— In one moment I shall 
be with you— I will let you in!” exclaimed 
the Spaniard. ‘The boys could hear him moving 
about in his apartment, they could hear the rattle 
of papers, and then the door was opened. 

There was no one in the room except the young 

‘South American railroad man, but there was the 
odor of a strong cigar in the apartment, and 
‘Blake noticed this with surprise for, some time 
before, Mr. Alcando had said he did not smoke. 


















‘ visitor, who was smoking W en the ma pees . 
_ but there was no sign of the caller then, except 
in the aroma of the cigar, Wak 

He might have gone into one of the other | 
rooms that opened from the one into which the 
boys looked, for Mr. Alcando had a suite in the | 
hotel. And, after all, it was none of the affair 
of Blake or Joe, if their new friend had had < a 
caller. : ! 
* Only,” said Blake to Joe afterward, ee : 
was he in such a hurry to get rid of. him, and 
afraid that we might meet him?”  — . 
“TJ don’t know,’ Joe answered. “It doesn't 
worry me. You are too suspicious.” aye 
“I suppose I am.” ? ya ae 
Mr, Alcando welcomed the boys, Bit said os. i 
ing about the delay in opening his door, or about 
ans visitor who must have slipped out hastily. 4 
{The Spaniard was glad to see Blake and Joe, and f 


er pate at = 








time is left,” he said, EG aerate aoe | 
_ papers on his table. As he did so, Blake caug 
: is of a small bor with some so | 






OFF FOR PANAMA 73 


Yes, much to do,’ went on Mr. Alcando. 
And then, either by accident or design, he shoved 
some papers in such a way that the small box was 
completely hidden. : 

* We have just come from Mr. Hadley,” 
plained Joe, and then he and Blake plunged ae 
a mass of details regarding their trip, with which 
I need not weary you. 

Sufficient to say that Mr. Alcando promised to 
be on hand at the time of the sailing of the 
steamer for Colon. 

In due time, though a day or so later than 
originally planned, Blake and Joe, with their new 
Spanish friend, were on hand at the pier. Mr. 
Alcando had considerable baggage, and he was 
to be allowed the use of an old moving picture 
camera with which to “ get his hand in.’’ Blake 
and Joe, of course had their own machines, which 
had been put in perfect order. There were sev- 
eral of them for different classes of work. 

' Final instructions were given by Mr. Hadley, 
good-bys were said, and the boys and Mr. Al- 
cando went aboard. 

“IT hope you have good luck!” called Birdie 
Lee to Blake, as she waved her hand to him, 

* And so do I,” added Mabel Pierce to Joe. 

Thanks!” they made answer in a chorus. 

“And — look — out — for — the — big 


74 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


slides!” called Mr. Piper after them, as the 
steamer swung away from the pier. 

“‘ Gloomy to the last!’ laughed Blake. 

So they were off for Panama, little dreaming 
of the sensational adventures that awaited them 
there. | 


CHAPTER IX ' 
THE LITTLE BOX 


BLAKE and Joe were too well-seasoned travel- 
ers to care to witness many of the scenes attendant 
upon the departure of their vessel. Though 
young in years, they had already crowded into 
their lives so many thrilling adventures that it 
took something out of the ordinary to arouse 
their interest. 

It was not that they were blasé, or indifferent 
to novel sights, but travel was now, with them, 
an old story. They had been out West, to the 
Pacific Coast, and in far-off jungle lands, to say _ 
nothing of their trip to the place of the earth- 
quakes, and the more recent trip to the flooded 
Mississippi Valley. 

So, once they had waved good-by to their 
‘friends and fellow-workers on the pier, they went 
to their stateroom to look after their luggage. 

The two boys and Mr. Alcando had a room 
ample for their needs, and, though it would ac- 
commodate four, they were assured that the 

45 





; fourth berth would not be occupied, sO no stran- 
ger would intrude. 

When Blake and Joe went Se Mr. Alcantp’ 
did not follow. Either he liked the open air to — 
be found on deck, or he was not such a veteran — 
traveler as to care to miss the sights and sounds ~ 
of departure. His baggage was piled in one cor- _ 
ner, and that of the boys in other parts of the — 
stateroom, with the exception of the trunks ie 
cameras, which were stowed in the hold, as Ma 
being wanted on the voyage. 

“ Well, what do you think of him now? is asked | 
Joe, as he sat down, for both he and Blake © 
were tired, there having been much to do that it 

day. | by 
“Why, he seems all ae ”” was the e slowly 
siven answer. Ae 
. Sete mote Suspine eh?” 















i. eee 

















in his room that time, and to get aoe nine 
it was so quickly before we came in. But if =o 
_ pose we all have our secrets.” | ame 
by “Yes,” agreed Joe. “ And he certainly can’ n't. 
ue enough for us. Hei is very grateful.” 










THE LITTLE BOX 772 


he never tired of telling those whom he met what 
the boys had done for him. 

It was truly grateful praise, too, and he was 
sincere in all that he said. As Joe had remarked, 
the Spaniard could not do enough for the boys. 

He helped in numberless ways in getting ready 
for the trip, and offered to do errands that could 
better be attended to by a messenger boy. He 
was well supplied with cash, and it was all Joe 
and Blake could do to prevent him from buying 
them all sorts of articles for use on their trip. 

Passing a sporting goods store that made a 
specialty of fitting out travelers who hunted in 
the wilds, Mr. Alcando wanted to purchase for 
Blake and Joe complete camping outfits, portable 
stoves, guns, knives, patent acetylene lamps, port- 
able tents, automatic revolvers and all sorts of 
things. 

“ But we don’t need them, thank you!” Blake 
insisted. “ We're not going to do any hunting, 
and we won’t camp out if we can help it.” 

“Oh, but we might have to!” said Mr. Al- 
cando, *‘ then think how useful these outfits would 
be.” 

“But we'd have to cart them around with us 
for months, maybe,”’ said Joe, “on the slim chance 
of using part of the things one night. We don’t 
need ’em.”’ 


it , 
gene 


“ ak “MovING PICTURE B BOYS. 4 cle 


Dae ni ‘Spaniard jnsisted| 
_ “ We know that, by this time,” declared Blake 
“Please don’t get anything more,’ for their 
friend had already bought them some things for 
their steamer trip. Tn anes ee eee 
© Ah, well then, if you insist,” agreed the gen- 
erous one, “ but if ever you come SS ee Benny 
all that I own is yours. debt.” 
“Oh, you mustn’t feel that EO about it,” — 
Blake assured him. “ After all, oe since 
saved reat ; 


Wek NO on their way to Panama. | ‘The ae 
was getting rather cool, for though it was only 
early November the chill of winter was be inning 
to make itself felt. ce aa ‘ 
“ VON Bat, we'll soon be where it’s eco i 
ot the: year around, i‘ said Jo to Ls: as they 


"idee experience for us. | ‘Not A sO 
jungle, I hope, as the dose we e had of i it 
went after the wild a ani als Rie 





THE LITTLE BOX "9 


“No, and I’m glad of it,’ responded Joe. 
“ That was a little too much at times. Yet there 
is plenty of jungle in Panama.” 

“TI suppose so. Well, suppose we go up on 
deck for a breath of air.” 

They had taken a steamer that went directly 
to Colon, making but one stop, at San Juan, Porto 
Rico. A number of tourists were aboard, and 
there were one or two “ personally conducted” 
parties, so the vessel was rather lively, with so 
many young people. 

In the days that followed Joe and Blake made 
the acquaintance of a number of persons, in 
whom they were more or less interested. When 
it became known that the boys were moving 
picture operators the interest in them increased, 
and one lively young lady wanted Blake to get 
out his camera and take some moving pictures 
of the ship’s company. But he explained, that, 
though he might take the pictures on board the 
steamer, he had no facilities for developing or 
printing the positives, or projecting them after 
they were made. | 

In the previous books of this series is described 
in detail the mechanical process of how moving 
pictures are made, and to those volumes curious 
readers are referred. 

The process is an intricate one, though much 


“ i) noe from what it was at arse and it vid gut 
worth studying. ae 

On and on swept the Gatun, carrying our 

{friends to the wonderland of that great “ ditch” 

which has become one of the marvels’ of the . 
world. Occasionally there were storms to inter- 
aC pape the otherwise placid voyage, but there 1 was 

only short discomfort. . 

, Mr. Alcando was eager to reach the scene ee 
operations, and after his first enthusiasm con-— 
cerning the voyage had worn off he insisted on) 
talking about the detailed and technical parts of 

moving picture work to Joe and Blake, who were 

_ glad to give him the pee, of their informa- , 

“ation. oe ae: 
“Well, you haven’t seen bate more suse 

 picious about him; have you?” asked Joe of his 
_ chum when they were together in the stateroom 
one evening, the Spaniard being on deck. ae 
| “No, I can’t say that I have. I ‘guess: 7 did 
let my imagination run away with me. But 
say, Joe, what sort of a watch have | yar that tick 
- loudiv?. 2" , 
ye “Watch! That isn’t my ‘watch 1” * exclaim se 





THE LITTLE BOX SI 


“TI do hear something like a clock,” admitted 
Joe. “ But I don’t see any. I didn’t know there 
was one in this stateroom.” 

“ There isn’t, either,” said Joe, with a glance 
about. “ But I surely do hear something.” 

*“ Maybe it’s your own watch working over- 
time.” | 

** Mine doesn’t tick as loud as that,’ and Blake 
pulled out his timepiece. Even with it out of his 
pocket the beat of the balance wheel could not be 
heard until one held it to his ear. 

* But what is it?” asked Joe, curiously. 

“It seems to come from Mr. Alcando’s bag- 
_- gage,” Blake said. “ Yes, it’s in his berth,’ he 
went on, moving toward that side of the state- 
room. The nearer he advanced toward the sleep- 
ing place of the Spaniard the louder became the 
ticking. | 

“He’s got some sort of a clock in his bed,” 
[Blake went on.. “ He may have one of those 
cheap watches, though it isn’t like him to buy 
that kind. Maybe he put it under his pillow and 
forgot to take it out. Perhaps I’d better move 
it or he may not think it’s there, and toss it out 
on the floor.’ 

But when he lifted the pillow no watch was 
_ to be seen. 

“That’s funny,” said Blake, musingly. “I 


82 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


surely hear that ticking in this berth; don’t you?” 

“Yes,” assented Joe. “ Maybe it’s mixed up 
in the bedclothes.” Before Blake could inter- 
fere Joe had turned back the coverings, and there, 
near the foot of the berth, between the sheets, 
was a small brass-bound box, containing a num- 
ber of metal projections. It was from this box 
the ticking sound came. | 

“ Why —why!” gasped Blake. “ That— 
that box —” | 

“What about it? ’’ asked Joe, wonderingly. 

“That’s the same box that was on his table 
the time we came in his room at the hotel — 
when we smelled the cigar smoke. I wonder 
what it is, and why he has it in his bed? ” 





th 

‘ 
im 
a 


CHAPTER X 
THE SECRET CONFERENCE 


BLAKE was silent a moment after making this 
portentous announcement. Then he leaned for- 
ward, with the evident intention of picking up 
the curious, ticking box. 3 

“Look out!’ cried Joe, grasping his chum’s 
hand. 

“What for?” Blake wanted to know. 

“It might be loaded — go off, you know!” 

* Nonsense!’’ exclaimed Blake. “It’s prob- 
ably only some sort of foreign alarm clock, and 
he stuffed it in there so the ticking wouldn’t keep 
him awake. I’ve done the same thing when I 
didn’t want to get up. I used to chuck mine 
under the bed, or stuff it in an old shoe. What's 
the matter with you, anyhow? You act scared,” 
for Joe’s face was actually white —that is as 
white as it could be under the tan caused by his 
outdoor life. 

“Well, I—I thought,’ stammered Joe. 


_“ Perhaps that was.a—’” 
83 


a "MOVING PICTURE 00 a : 


ht 


‘Blake with a laugh, 
you're way ahead!” : Lee 
Arche “ Oh, well, I guess I did i imagine too Wet td 
Goatees admitted Joe with a little laugh. “It probably _ 
is an alarm clock, as you say. I wonder what — 
we'd better do with it? If we leave it there —” 
He was interrupted by the opening of the state- 
room door and as both boys turmed they saw their 
Spanish friend standing on ae threshold Bes 
at them. — 

“ Well!” he exclaimed, anid hen was an angry 
note in his voice—a note the boys had never 
before noticed, for Mr. Alcando was of a sunny — 

and happy disposition, and not nearly as quick- 
- tempered as persons of mationality are wa 
_ posed to be. | , 
“T suppose it does took oe ‘though we nee 
rummaging in your things,” said Blake, deciding 
instantly that it was best to be frank. “But 
_ we heard a curious ticking noise when we came 
_ down here, and we traced it to your bunk. We 
_ didn’t know what it might be, and thought per- 
« haps you had put your watch in the bed, and 
_ might have as to ee it out We PO : “ 
ae found this — | 





THE SECRET CONFERENGE 85 


passed over his face. He reached in among the 
bed clothes and picked up the curious brass- 
bound ticking box, with its many little metallic 
projections. 

““T perhaps did not tell you that I am a sort of 
inventor,” the Spaniard went on. “I have not 
had much success, but I think my new alarm clock 
is going to bring me in some money. It works 
on a new principle, but I am giving it a good 
test, privately, before I try to put it on the mar- 
ket.” 

He took the brass-bound, ticking box from 
the bed, and must have adjusted the mechanism 
in a way Blake or Joe did not notice, for the 
 click-click” stopped at once, and the room 
seemed curiously still after it. 

“Some day I will show you how it works,” 
the young Spaniard went on. “I think, myself, 
it is quite what you call — clever.” 

And with that he put the box in a trunk, and 
closed the lid with a snap that threw the lock. 

“* And now, boys, we will soon be there!’ he 
cried with a gay laugh. “Soon we will be in 
the beautiful land of Panama, and will see the 
marvels of that great canal. Are you not glad? 
And I shall begin to learn more about making 
moving pictures! That will please me, though 
I hope I shall not be so stupid a pupil as to make 


86 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


trouble for you, my friends, to whom I owe so 
much,” 
_ He looked eagerly at the boys. 

“We'll teach you all we know, which isn’t such 
an awful lot,” said Joe. ‘And I don’t believe 
you'll be slow.” 


“You have picked up some of it already,” 


went on Blake, for while delaying over making 
their arrangements in New York the boys and 
their pupil had gone into the rudiments of moving 
picture, work. 

~ “Tam glad you think so,” returned the other. 
*T shall be glad when we are at work, and more 
glad still, when I can, with my own camera, pene- 
trate into the fastness of the jungle, along the 
lines of our railroad, and show what we have 
done to bring civilization there. The film will 
be the eyes of the world, watching our progress,” 
he added, poetically. 


“Why don’t you come up on deck,” he pro- 


ceeded. ‘It is warm down here.” 

“We just came down,” said Joe, “but it is 
hot,” for they were approaching nearer to the 
Equator each hour. 

While the boys were following the young Span- 
iard up on deck, Joe found a chance to wise 
to Blake: | 





) 
| 
| 
i 





THE SECRET CONFERENCE 87, 


“TI notice he was not at all anxious to show 
us how his brass-box alarm clock worked.” 

“No,” agreed Blake in a low voice, “and yet 
‘his invention might be in such a shape that he 
didn’t want to exhibit it yet.” 

“So you think that’s the reason, eh?”’ 

“Surely. Don’t you?” 

“TI do not!” 

“What then? ” 

“ Well, I think he’s trying to—” 

** Hush, here he comes!” cautioned Blake, for 
their friend at that moment came back from a 
stroll along the forward deck. 

But if Joe was really suspicious of the young 
Spaniard nothing that occurred in the next few 
days served to develop that suspicion. No ref- 
erence was made to the odd alarm clock, which 
was not heard to tick again, nor was it in evi- 
dence either in Mr. Alcando’s bed, or elsewhere. 

“ What were you going to say it was that time 
when I stopped you?” asked Blake of his chum 
one day. 
| “Twas going to say I thought it might be some 
sort of an improvement on a moving picture 
camera,” Joe answered. ‘‘ This may be only a 
bluff of his — wanting to learn how to take mov- 
ing pictures. He may know how all along, and 


UGiions, That’s what I think.” f; Se 
nf “ Well, you think wrong,” declared Bie. 4 


tures now, why he doesn’t vote know how to 
| A iiread the film into the camera.” OL 
“Oh, well, maybe: I’m wrong,” admitted 
‘Joe. Aa haa 
Day succeeded day, until, in due time, after 
their stop at San Juan, where the boys went 
ashore for a brief visit, the steamer dropped an- 
chor in the excellent harbor of Colon, at the At- 
antic end of the great Panama Canal. 2 
A storm was impending as the ship made er 
“way up the harbor, but as the boys and the other 
‘passengers looked at the great break-water, con- 
structed to be one of the protections to the Canal, 
they realized what a stupendous undertaking the 
work was, and they knew that no storm could 
affect them, now they were within the Colon hat - 
Rf “Well, we're here at ast” exclaimed Joe, a 





_ THE SECRET CONFERENCE 89 


tired of doing nothing.. At last we are at Pan- 
ama!” 

“And I shall soon be with you, taking pic- 
tures!” cried the Spaniard. ‘“ How long do you 
think it will be before I can take some views my- 
self?” he asked eagerly. 

“Oh, within a week or so we'll trust you with 
a camera,’ said Blake. 

“That is, if you can spare time from your 
alarm clock invention,” added Joe, with a curious 
glance at his chum. 

But if Mr. Alcando felt any suspicions at the 
words he did not betray himself. He smiled 
genially, made some of his rapid Latin gestures 
and exclaimed: 

“Oh, the clock. He is safe asleep, and will 
be while Iam here. I work only on moving pic- 
tures now!” 

In due season Blake, Joe and Mr. Alcando 
found themselves quartered in the pleasant Wash- 
ington Hotel, built by the Panama Railroad for 
the Government, where they found, transported to 
a Southern clime, most of the luxuries demanded 
by people of the North. 

“Well, this is something like living!” ex- 
claimed Blake as, their baggage and moving pic- 
ture cameras and accessories having been put 

away, they, sat) on the veranda and watched 


ences 3 in ees taking slides,” ree 
“Do you— er — ree have to get very cee 


- Alcando, rather nervously, Blake thought. 
grass) nearer the better,” ee seinen 


c Some picture that!’ fas Si et 
_ “Where was this?” asked the Spanien 
— &Ty earthquake land. - There y were some ¢ times 


- there! ks . { : Hy AEA re can 
eas Ha! 


mc all, it $ no 0 more 1 fi ‘h an Oi 


NS 


ie mf 





THE SECRET CONFERENCE of 


“No, I suppose not,” laughed their pupil. 
* Well, when do we start?” 

“As soon as we can arrange for the govern- 
ment tug to take us along the Canal,” answered 
Blake. ‘‘ We'll have to go in one of the United 
States vessels, as the Canal isn’t officially opened 
yet. We'll have to make some inquiries, and 
present our letters of introduction. If we get 
started with the films inside of a week we'll be 
doing well.” 

The week they had to wait until their plans 
were completed was a pleasant one. They lived 
well at the hotel, and Mr. Alcando ‘met some 
Spaniards and other persons whom he knew, and 
to whom he introduced the boys. 

Finally the use of the tug was secured, cam- 
eras were loaded with the reels of sensitive film, 
other reels in their light-tight metal boxes were 
packed for transportation, and shipping cases, so 
that the exposed reels could be sent to the film 
company in New York for developing and print- 
ing, were taken along. 

- Not only were Blake and Joe without facili- 
' ties for developing the films they took, but it is 
very hard to make negatives in hot countries. 
If you have ever tried to develop pictures on a 
hot day, without an ice water bath, you can un- 
derstand this. And there was. just then little 


‘ UE te Mins! 
Ay 
* 


‘ice ‘to be had for me, , as phonon 
- though some might have been obtained for an 
emergency. Blake and Joe were only to make 
_the exposures; the developing and printing could 
better be done in New York. | 
“Well, we'll start up the canal to-morrow,” 
said Blake to Joe on the evening of their last day 
in Colon. 4 
f-Yes, and I'll be glad of it,’ remarked Joe. 
“It’s nice enough here at this hotel, but I want to ¢@ 
get busy.” 7 
Sado .1,7 contelane He ies. . 
They were to make the entire trip through Ne 
Canal as guests of Uncle Sam, the Government 
having acceded to Mr. Hadley’s request, as the 
- completed films were to form part of the official 
exhibit at the exposition in California later on. — 
“Whew, but it is hot!” exclaimed Joe, after 
he and Blake had looked over their possessions, 
to make sure they were ‘eae nothing 7 
their trip next day. | 
i “Yes,” agreed Blake. “ Lets go go out on the 
balcony for a breath of air.” | 
ns _ Their room opened on a esi balcony which 
faced the beach. Mr. Alcando had a room tw a 
a three Hiascinns farther along the corridor 





THE SECRET CONFERENCE 93 


faint light of a crescent and much-clouded moon, 
two figures on the balcony opening from the Span- 
iard’s room. | 

“ He has company,” said Joe, in a low voice. 

“Yes,” agreed Blake. “I wonder who it is? 
He said all of his friends had left the hotel. He 
must have met some new ones.” 

It was very still that night, the only sounds 
being the low boom and hiss of the surf as it 
rushed up the beach. And gradually, to Joe and 
Blake, came the murmur of voices from the Span- 
iard’s balcony. At first they were low, and it 
seemed to the boys, though neither expressed the 
thought, that the conference was a secret one. 
Then, clearly across the intervening space, came 
the words: 

“ Are you sute the machine works right?” 

*‘ Perfectly,” was the answer, in Mr. Alcando’s 
tones. ‘I have given it every test.” 

Then the voices again sunk to a low murmur. 


CHAPTER XI 
ALONG THE CANAL 


“ BLAKE, did you hear that?” asked Joe, after 
a pause, during which he and his chum could 
hear the low buzz of conversation from the other 
balcony. 

“Yes, I heard it. What of it?” 

“Well, nothing that I know of, and yet —” 

“Yet you’re more suspicious than I was,” broke 
in Blake. “TI don’t see why.” | 

“T hardly know myself,” admitted Joe. “Yet, 
somehow, that ticking box, and what oH saw in 
that letter —” | 

“Oh, nonsense!” interrupted Blake. “Don’t § 
imagine too much. You think that curious box ~ 
is some attachment for a moving picture camera; 
do you?” 

“ Well, it might be, and —”’ 

“ And you're afraid he will get ahead of you | 
in your invention of a focus tube; aren’t you?” 
continued Blake, not giving his companion a — 
chance to finish what he started to say. For 

a a 





ALONG THE CANAL 95 


Joe had recently happened to hit on a new idea 
of a focusing tube for a moving picture camera, 
and had applied for a patent on it. But there 
Was some complication and his papers had not 
yet been granted. He was in fear lest someone 
would be granted a similar patent before he re- 
ceived his. 

“Oh, I don’t know as I’m afraid of that,” Joe 
answered slowly. 

“Well, it must be that —or something,’ in- 
sisted Blake. ‘You hear Alcando and some- 
one else talking about a machine, and you at 
once jump to the conclusion that it’s a camera.” 

“No, I don’t!” exclaimed Joe. He did not 
continue the conversation along that line, but 
he was doing some hard thinking. 

Later that evening, when Mr. Alcando called 
at the room of the two chums to bid them good- 
night, he made no mention of his visitor on the 
balcony. Nor did Blake or Joe question him. 

“And we start up the Canal in the morning? ™ 
asked: the Spaniard. 

“Yes, and we'll make the first pictures going 
through the Gatun locks,” decided Blake. 

“Good! Iam anxious to try my hand!” 
their “ pupil.” 

With their baggage, valises, trunks, cameras, 
boxes of undeveloped film, other boxes to hold 


said 



























f the pilose reels of see celtulbid; aan man 

other things, the moving picture boys and Mr. 

_ ‘Alcando went aboard the government tug Nama 

_ the next morning. With the exception of some 

_ ‘Army engineers making a trip of inspection, 
ie were the only passengers. 

“Well, are you all ready, boys?” BO the 
apisin for he had been instructed by his su- 
periors to show. every courtesy and attention to. 
our heroes. In a sense ioe were working for 
Uncle Sam. 

‘ All ready,” brswiree Blake. its 

- “Then we'll  start,? 7 was _ the Teply. a . 
guess —” | ice 
“Oh, one moment, I a of eon! ” cried Mr. 
oe WAlcanto: “T see a friend coming with a mes- 
© | ‘sage to’ me,”” and’ he: pointed along the pier, 
where the tug was tied. Coming on the run was 
a man who bore every Raine of “being a 
Spaniard. a 7 
be AYOG. are: taper complained Mr. Richaa as. 
Ge a runner handed him a ae bie “ton almost 












tid not receive it inves ‘until a a nih es 
— it came By one So. eek are off oy a 






















ALONG THE GHNME Coit 97, 


vs “Whe fea the other spoke in Spanish, and later 
on Blake, who undertook the study of that lan- 
ts guage so as to make himself understood in a 
_ few simple phrases knew what it was that the 


“You will not failus?” -— 

 ©T will not fail—if I have to sacrifice my- 
a self,” was the answer of Mr. Alcando, and then 
with a wave of his hand the other went back up 
_ the pier. 

“All right?” again asked Captain Watson. 
a “AM right, my dear sir, 1 am sorry to have 
_ delayed you,” answered Mr. Alcando with more 
than his usual politeness. . 

_“ A little delay doesn’t matter. I am at your 
meservice, >the commander said. “ Well, now 
we'll start.” | 

If either Blake or Joe felt any surprise over 
_ the hurried visit, at the last minute, of Mr. Al- 
_ cando’s friend, they said nothing to each other 
about it. Besides, they had other matters to. 
think of just then, since now their real moving — 
picture work was about to begin. 

In a short time they were moving away from 
the pier, up the harbor and toward’ the wonder- 


i ies (aside from the ee. ak a the great 


ful locks and dam that form the amazing fea- 

























aun Better get our cameras bse hada’ ie we, 
(Blake? ” suggested Joeman | 
“TJ think so,” agreed his ae tf Now, Mr. ‘ 
‘Alcando, if you want to pick up agly points, you 
- ean watch us, A little later we'll let you erin 
- the crank yourself.” | 
I might explain, briefly, that moving pictures 
are taken not by pressing a switch, or a rubber 
bulb, such as that which works a camera shutter, 
but by the continuous action of a crank, or han- 
dle, attached to the camera. Pressing a bulb 
‘does well enough for taking a single picture, 
but when a series, on a long celluloid strip, are 
needed, as in the case for the “ movies,” an en- 
tirely different arrangement, ootttiaie pene 
necessary. : | 
_ The sensitive celluloid din must move ‘cone 
tinuously, in a somewhat jerky fashion, inside — 
we the dark SS camera, and behind the lens. 














aha ‘closing the shutter, moving the film and z 
| that i 1s mecessary. ; Ne aa 


















of he w moving pictures are pede but much be . oi) 
bout the’ Panama Canal. As to the ence i se 


levine nek Bieiake that oe in a great volume — 4 ee 
could I hope to do it justice. And in a story ae 
(such as this is intended to be), I am afraid YOU ws 
would think I was trying to give you pretty dry 
reading if I gave you too many facts and fig- 
$es,." 

CoN course many on you have read of the Candee | 
the newspapers—the controversy over the 
hoice of the route, the discussion as to whether 
_seaslevel or a lock canal was best, and many — 
other points, especially whether the Gatun Dam 
would be able to hold back the waters of the 
Chagres River. _ 
_ With all that T have eine to do i in this boots. 
but I hope you will pardon just a little reference 
on the Canal, especially the lock features, since 
Joe and Blake had a part in at least filming those , Tie ea 
wonderful structures. age 
‘ You know Prete are two kinds of canals, those 


























aed ; 


Bn 
Fy 


if ies 


im hill. One is to build it and let the water in to 


| ,the crest of the hill, and down the other side to 


Nalled, That is, there are built a series of basins 

















There are two ways of ee) a canal over 
the foot of the hill, and then to raise vessels over — 


where the canal again starts, by means of in- 
clined planes, or marine railways. ) 
_ The other method is by “ locks,” as fie are 


with powerful, water-tight gates dividing them. — 
Boys who live along canals well know how locks 
work. a 

A boat comes along ahae it ‘reaches the place 
where the lock is. It is floated into a basin, or 
section, of the waterway, and a gate is closed be- 
hind it. Then, from that part of the canal which 
is higher than that part where the boat then is, 

water is admitted into the basin, until the boat 
rise$ to the level of the higher part of the canal. 
Then the higher gate is opened, and ae vessel 
floats out on the eae level. It eee ne hill, * 
so to speak. 

_ By reversing the process. it can ane eo < cove! 
“pill ” Of course there must be heavy gates to 
pereyent the higher level waters from Pee ee 
_ those of the lower level. | 




















ALONG THE CANAL 101 


lantic side of the Isthmus, must rise eighty-five 


feet to get to the level of Gatun Lake, which 


forms a large part of the Canal. Then, when 


the Pacific end is approached, the vessel must 


go down eighty-five feet again, first in one step 
of thirty and a third feet, and then in two steps, 


or locks, aggregating fifty-four and two-thirds 
feet. So you see the series of locks at either 


end of the great Canal exactly balance one an- 
other, the distance at each end being eighty-five 
feet. 

It is just like going up stairs at one end of 
a long board walk and down again at the other 


_ end, only the steps are of water, and not wood. 


The tug bearing Blake, Joe and Mr. Alcando. 


‘was now steaming over toward Toro Point break- 
water, which I have before alluded to. This was 


built to make a good harbor at Colon, where vio- 
lent storms often occur. | 
“T want to get some pictures of the break- 


water,” Blake had said, since he and his chum 


were to present, in reels, a story of a complete 
trip through the Canal, and the breakwater was 
really the starting point. It extends out into the 
Caribbean Sea eleven thousand feet. ~ 
“And you are taking pictures now?” asked 
Mr. Alcando, as Blake and Joe set up a camera 
in the bow of the boat. 






Woe 





MOVING PICTURE ie 

















© That's 
we'll give you lesson nae nen ‘one, 
clicking away at the handles | (309) a a 
“TJ will gladly come!” exclaimed the Spanineth y 
_ and soon he was deep i in the es of the busi- i 
aiess.|. * ee Bay 

There was not much jay My the brealewabeey 











a as the boys were anxious to get to the Canal 


4 
- 


proper, and into the big locks. - _A little later their 
_ tug was steaming along the great ditch, five hun- 
_ dred feet wide, and over forty feet deep, which e 
leads directly to the locks. This ditch, or start 
of the Canal proper, is about seven miles. Tong, : 
and at various eal of interest rata the way = 













al 


Canal! 





ing: on and Jearning “ points.” 
gral t as S what uy are. ’ the capi n aye 
g fhe: : 





a 


CHAPTER XII 
ALMOST AN ACCIDENT 


_ “Wuat’s that big, long affair, jutting om so 
far from the locks?” asked Blake, when the tug 
had approached nearer. 

“ That’s the central pier,” the captain informed 
him. “It’s a sort of guide wall, to protect the 
locks. You know there are three locks at this 
end; or, rather, six, two series of three each. 


And each lock has several gates. One great dan- 


ger will be that powerful vessels may ram these 
gates and damage them, and, to prevent this, very, 
elaborate precautions are observed. You'll soon 
see. We'll have to tie up to this wall, or we'll 
run into the first protection, which is a big steel 
chain. You can see it just ahead there.” 

Joe and Blake, who had gotten all the pictures 
they wanted of the approach to the lock, stopped 
grinding away at the handle of the camera long 
enough to look at the chain. 

These chains, for there are several of them, 


each designed to protect some lock gate, consist 
103 













“104 MOVING PICTURE BOYS ar PANAiA 


of His ate of steel ives ches thick, “They 
stretch across the locks, and any vessel that does 
not stop at the moment it should, before reach- :: 
ing this chain, will ram its prow into it. 

“ But I’m not taking any such chances,” Cap 
tain Watson informed the boys. ‘‘I don’t want 
to be censured, which nae happen, ae I don’ tr 
‘want to injure my boat.” J 

“What would happen if you did hit the chain? Ne 
asked Blake. They had started off again, afted | 
the necessary permission to enter the locks had — 
been signaled to them. Once more Blake and — 
Joe were taking pictures, ae the chain in f 
position. a 

“Well, if I happened to be in command of a a 
_ big vessel, say the size of the Olympic, and I en : 
the chain at a speed of a mile and a half an 
hour, and I had a full load on, the chain would — 
stop me within about seventy feet and prevent me 
from ramming the lock gate.” Ra s. 

“ But how does it do it?” asked Joe. 0 

“By means of machinery,’ the captain in- 
formed him. “Each end of the chain fender 
- goes about a drum, which winds and unwinds by 
hydraulic power. Once a ship hits the chain its | 
vend will gradually slacken, but it takes a pres- 
sure e of one hundred tons to make the chain begin 


Pa. i. 





ALMOST AN ACCIDENT IOS 


two hundred and fifty tons, before it will break, 
But before that happens the vessel will have 
stopped.” 

“ But we are not going to strike the chain, I 
take it,’ put in Mr. Alcando. 

“Indeed we are not,” the captain assured him. 
“ There, it is being lowered now.” 

As he spoke the boys saw the immense steel- 
linked fender sink down helow the surface of the 
water. ‘ 

“Where does it go?” asked Blake. 

“It sinks down in a groove in the bottom of 
the lock,” the captain explained. “ It takes about 
one minute to lower the chain, and as long to 
raise it.” 

“Well, I’ve got that!’’ Blake exclaimed as the 
handle of his camera ceased clicking. He had 
sufficient views of the giant fender. As the tug 
went on Captain Watson explained to the boys 
that even though a vessel should manage to break 
the chain, which was almost beyond the bounds 
of possibility, there was the first, or safety gate 
of the lock. And though a vessel might crash 
through the chain, and also the first gate, owing 
to failure to stop in the lock, there would be a 
second gate, which would almost certainly bring 
the craft to a stop. 

But even the most remote possibility has been 


























th 106 MOVING PICTURE Bors aT PANAMA 
henpit of by the makers a the great Chaat: ‘audi 
should all the lock-gates be torn away, and the 
impounded waters of Gatun Lake start to rush 
out, there are emergency dams that can be put 
into place to stop the flood. 

‘These emergency dams can n be swung into pies 
‘in two minutes by means of electrical machinery, — 
but should that fail, they can be put into place by 2 
hand in about thirty minutes. uf a 

“So you see the Canal is pretty well. pro- 5 
tected,” remarked Captain Watson, as he pre- 
pared to send his tug across the place where the a 
chain had been, and so inte the a of fe three it 
~ Jock basins. ee me 

“Say! This is great!” cried Blake, as. he 


4 
i. 
, 


gas 
















through. 3 Sha pene ie 
Now the tug no longer rigs 2 ae a own. 

steam, nor had it been since coming alongside the 

” wall of the central pier. For all vessels must ie 





ALMOST AN ACCIDENT 107, 


“Why, those locomotives in back are making 
fast to us with wire hawsers. I don’t see how 
they can push with those.” 

“They're not going to,” explained Captain 
Watson. “Those in the stern are for holding 
back, to provide for an emergency in case those 
in front pull us too fast.” 

“Those who built the Canal seem to have 
thought of everything,’ spoke Blake with much 
enthusiasm. 

“You'll think so, after you’ve seen some more 
of-the wonders,” the tug captain went on with 
a smile. “Better get your cameras ready,” he 
advised, “ they’ll be opening and closing the gates 
for us now, and that ought to make good pic- 
tures, especially when we are closed in the lock, 
and water begins to enter.” 

“How does it come in?” asked Joe. ‘“ Over 
the top?” 

“No, indeed. They don’t use the waterfall 
effect,” answered Blake, who had been reading a 
book about the Canal. “It comes in from the 
bottom; doesn’t it, Captain Watson?” 

“Yes, through valves that are opened and 
closed by electricity. In fact everything about the 
lock is done by electricity, though in case of emer- 
gency hand power can be used. The water fills 
the lock through openings in the floor, and the 









108 MOVING PICTURE BOYS 4 AT PANAMA a 


water itself comes from Gatun Tike : ‘There, the ‘ 
gate is opening!”’ , 

The boys saw what cenied to be two solid 

walls of steel slowly separated, by an unseen 
power, as the leaves of a book might open. ta 
fact the gates of the locks are called “leaves.” 
Slowly they swung back out of the way, into dev 

pressions in the side walls of the locks, sear to 
receive them, ny 
“Here we go! ” cried the captain, the tug oe q 
gan to move slowly under the pull of the electric — 
locomotives on the concrete wall above them. | 

“ Start your cameras, boys!” — 

Blake and Joe needed no urging. Already the» 
handles were clicking, and thousands of pictures, — 
showing a boat actually going through the locks | 

of the Panama Canal, were being taken on the | 
long strip of sensitive film. Le SNS NE 
“Oh, it is wonderful!” exclaimed Mr. AL , 

- cando. “Do you think —I mean, would it be 
possible for me to —” : TE 
To take some pictures? Of course!” ex- 7 
claimed Blake, generously. “ sae grind this | 
ue tied a while, Ae tired.” 





% 








% " S mee at what speed to turn the handle, 
Hace seis eC AN must be taken at just 


ALMOST AN ACCIDENT 109 


speed, and reproduced on the screen at the same 
rate, or the vision produced is grotesque. Per- 
sons and animals seem to run instead of walk. 
But the new pupil, with a little coaching from 
Blake, did very well. 

“Now the gates will be closed,” said the tug 
captain, “and the water will come in to raise us 
to the level of the next higher lock. We have 
to go through this process three times at this end 
of the Canal, and three times at the other. Watch 
them let in the water.” 

The big gates were not yet fully closed when 
something happened that nearly put an end to the 
_ trip of the moving picture boys to Panama. 

For suddenly their tug, instead of moving for- 
ward toward the front end of the lock, began go- 
ing backward, toward the slowly-closing lock 
gates. 

“What's up? ” cried Blake. 

“We're going backward!” shouted Joe. 

“Yes, the stern locomotives are pulling us 
back, and the front ones seem to have let go!” 
Captain Watson said. ‘“‘ We'll be between the 
lock gates in another minute. Hello, up there!” 
he yelled, looking toward the top of the lock wall. 
What's the matter? ”’ 

Slowly the tug approached the closing tek 
gates. If she once got between them, moving 


Gliese | 
oe “This is terrible!” cried Mr. Aleando. a 


pictures.” 
“ You'll be in tighter places than this,” said 





CHAPTER XHI 
IN THE JUNGLE 


“Wuat will we do with the cameras, Blake? 
The films, too, they will all be spoiled — we 
haven’t enough waterproof cases!”’ cried Joe to 
his chum, as the boat, through some accident or 
failure, backed nearer and nearer to the closing 
steel gates. 

“ Will we really have to jump overboard?” * 
asked the Spaniard. “‘I am not a very excellent 
swimmer.” : 

But Blake, at whom these questions seemed 
directed, did not have to answer them. For, after 
a series of confused shouts on the top of the con- 
crete wall above them the movement of the boat, 
as well as the slow motion of the lock gates, 
ceased. It was just in time, for the rudder of 
the tug was not more than a few feet away from 
the jaws of steel. | 

“Youre all right now,” a man called down to 
those on the tug, from the wall over their heads. 
“Something went wrong with the towing locoe- 


motives. There’s no more danger.” 
iil 


i a ANS anyhow? ” 


© Well, all of our snact ae isn’t working a 
smoothly as well have it later,” | 
engineer explained. “Some of our signals 
went wrong as you were being towed through, ; 
and you went backward instead of forward 
sae it took a minute or so to sep. the lock eae i 


in relief, and Mr. Alcando. ee to breathe. b 


easier. A little later the tug was again urged 
forward toward the front lock ene 


the yeaa As Blake had said, ity was ike a sig 
- swimming tank. » 
“Now we'll. go up,” 















tg j 
_a short strip of film, Joe, I guess.” eg 
The tug did not occupy a whole section of the pany 
k, for they are built to accommodate vessels a_ ie 
uisand feet long. To economize time in filling mls 
such a great tank as that would be the locks are Sole 


divided by aes into small tanks for small 





It tales just forty-six gates for all the locks,” 
lained Captain Watson, while Blake and Joe 
were getting their camera in position, and the 
‘men at the locks were closing certain water valves. 

: g opening others. Z Each lock has two leaves, — 

















a es, es six hundred tons each, eighty feet a | 
sixty-five. feet wide and seven feet thick,” ob- ; 
rved ee ; 






ie aiinped the sie. | sal 
‘comes the water!” cried the pene 
“f hissing and gurgling sound, and mil-_ 





: . i a of bubbles Me to shot o on rahe aartaee 
the limpid fluid in which floated the Nama. The | 


water came in from below, through the sevent 


openings in the floor of each lock, being ac 


mitted by means of pipes and culverts from the 
upper level. 

As the water hissed, boiled and bubbled vihile 
it flowed in Blake took moving pictures. of it. 
Slowly the Nama rose. Higher and higher ; she 
went until finally she was raised as high as that 
section of the lock would lift her. She went up 
at the rate of two feet a minute, though Captai 
Watson explained that when there was need of 
cs hurry the rate could be three feet a minute. 

__ “ And we have two more e locks to g0 trough? ” 


ee ~ asked Joe. 
eh Be Wes, two more here at Gatun, and three. 





IN THE JUNGLE | IIs 


7 phase of the Canal, since the next scenes would 
be but a repetition of the process in the following 
two locks that would lift the Nama to the level of 
Gatun Lake. 
“But I tell you what we could do,” Blake said 
to his chum. 

“'What’s that— swim the rest of the way,” 
asked Joe, “and have Mr. Alcando make pictures 
of us?” 

“No, we've had enough ‘of water lately. But 
we could get out on top of the lock walls, and 
take pictures of the tug going through the lock. 
‘That would be different.” 

“So it would!” cried Joe. “ We'll do it!” 

They easily obtained permission to do this, and 
soon, with their cameras, and accompanied by 
Mr. Alcando, they were on the concrete wall. 
From that vantage point they watched the open- 
ing of the lock gates, which admitted the Nama 
into the next basin. There she was shut up, by 
the closing of the gates behind her, and raised to 
the second level. The boys succeeded in getting 
some good pictures at this point and others, also, 
when the tug was released from the third or final 
lock, and steamed out into Gatun Lake. There 
was now before her thirty-two miles of clear 
water before reaching Muiraflores. 

“ Better come aboard, boys,” advised Captain 


Ww atson, ‘ ‘and I’ r take you eee to 0 Gatun D | 
~ Wou’ll want views of that.” — 
“We sure will!” cried Blake. a 
“Tsn’t it all wonderful!” exclaimed Joo we w 
_ Iwas deeply impressed by all he saw. aes 
“Tt is, indeed!” agreed the Spaniard. “ You 
nation is a powerful and great one. it is ae 
-mendous achievement.” _ | 
Aboard the tug they went around towne thell 

_ great dam that is really the key to the Panama ¢ 
Canal. For without this dam there would be no— 
Gatun Lake, which holds back the waters of the 7 
Chagres River, making a big lake eighty-five fe 
above the level of the ocean. It is this lake th 


A makes possible the operation of a lock can 





IN THE JUNGLE Ii7 


It’s a mile and a half long, half a mile thick at 
the base, three hundred feet through at the water- 
line, and on top a third of that.” 

“ How high is it?” asked Joe, who always 
liked to know just how big or how little an ob- 
ject was. He had a great head for figures. 

“It’s one hundred and five feet high,” the cap- 
tain informed him, “and it contains enough con- 
crete so that if it were loaded into two-horse 
wagons it would make a procession over three 
times around the earth.” 

“Catch me! I’m going to faint!” cried Blake, 
staggered at the immensity of the figure. 

“That dam is indeed the key to the whole 
lock,’ murmured Mr. Alcando, as he looked at 
the wonderful piece of engineering. ‘If it were 
to break — the Canal would be ruined.” 

“Yes, ruined, or at least destroyed for many, 
years,’ said Captain Watson solemnly. “ But it 
is impossible for the dam to break of itself. No 
waters that could come into the lake could tear it 
away, for every provision has been made ae 
floods. They would be harmless.”’ 

“What about an earthquake?” asked Joe. 
“ve read that the engineers feared them.” 

“They don’t now,” said the captain. “ There 
was some talk, at first, of an earthquake, or a 
volcanic eruption, destroying the dam, but Pan- 


wet ama hae not een es, ee a tiger ea 
Bes quake i in so long that the danger need not be con 
| sidered. And there are no volcanoes near enough - 
to do any harm. It is true, there might be a 
slight earthquake shock, but the dam would stand 
‘ oie The only thing that might conAne S it. 
‘would be a blast of dynamite.” eu 
_ “Dynamite!” quickly exclaimed Mr. Alcanaaa 
~ © And who would dare to explode oamatee at the 
Mam 2 nig 
“TI don’t he wae Ot do it, but ; some - 
) the enemies of the United States might. ( 
- someone who fancied the Canal nae eo “a 
a him, ” the captain went on, iG 


eee 


wee 


“ That is hard to answer,” “went on. “ithe tug 
| commander. “T know that we are taking gre at 
ae Pog thou to petite the eee 





IN THE JUNGLE rg 


ing no chances. Well, have you  pietures 
enough ? ” 

“I think so,” answered Blake. ‘“‘ When we 
come back we'll stop off here and get some views 
from below the dam, showing the spillway.” 

“Yes, that ought to be interesting,’ the cap- 
tain agreed. 

The tug now steamed on her way out into Gatun 
Lake, and there a series of excellent views were 
obtained for the moving picture cameras. Mr. 
Alcando was allowed to do his part. He was 
rapidly learning what the boys could teach him. 

“Of course it could never happen,” the Span- 
fard said, when the cameras had been put away, 
for the views to be obtained then were of too 
much sameness to attract Joe or Blake, “it would 
never happen, and I hope it never does; but if it 
did it would make a wonderful picture; would it 
not?’’ he asked. . 

“What are you talking about?” asked Blake. 

* The Gatun Dam,” was the answer. ‘‘ If ever 
it was blown up by dynamite it would make a won- 
derful scene.” 

“Too wonderful,” said Joe grimly. “It 
would be a terrible crime against civilization to 
destroy this great canal.” 

“Yes, it would be a great crime,’’ agreed the 


ai 


MOVING 8 PICTURE 2 Bs YS AT PAN MA 


" e Bpaaiard in a tow voice. A little later he oul 


‘remained on dene ae a 
ee Queer sort ofa chap; is isn t he?? oi said Jo 


into the interior. So if you’ re going —” va 
_ “T think we had better £0; bet t you? i asked 
Blake of his chum. . 

“ Surely, yes. (We might Say some fine ri 


tures. They'll go well with the Canal, anyhow 


really a sort of part of the series we're taking.” 
SATE right, then, rit leave youd in the age 
the avian said. 


ee the boys to Ain certain scenes they oan 


ie _ the tug reached Gamboa, where gee aan 


pe a as into the interior. 





CHAPTER XIV; 
IN DIRE PERIL 


A sMALL launch had been provided for the use 
of Blake and Joe in going into the jungle, the 
first part of their trip being along the Chagres 
River. The tug on which they had come thus far 
was not suitable. 

Accordingly they had transferred what baggage 
they needed to the launch, and with their moving 
picture cameras, with shelter tents, food, supplies 
and some West Indian negroes as helpers, they 
_ were prepared to enjoy life as much as possible 
in the jungle of the Isthmus. 

“You boys don’t seem to mind what you do 
to get pictures,” commented Mr. Alcando, as they 
sat in the launch, going up the stream, the ex- 
istence of which made possible Gatun Lake. 

“No, you get so you'll do almost anything to 
get a good film,” agreed Blake. 

“This is easy compared to some of the things 
we've done,’ Joe remarked. “ You'll become 
just as fascinated with it as we are, Mr. Al- 


cando.” 
I2r 


ay 122° ‘MOVING PICTURE BC 


it 


ui “T Rane so,” he on “ t fon 1 will tara | 
- penetrate into a much wilder jungle than this i | 
I take the views our company wants. Perhaps. 
NY can induce you to come to South America and 
_ make films for us in case : I can’t do it,’ he con- 
cluded. a ear 
_ “ Well, we’re in the ‘pee ’ remarked Blake 
with a smile. ““ But you'll get so you can take 
for yourself just as good pictures as we can.” a 
“ Do you really think so?” asked has Spaniard, 
eaperly eho: « Bats 5 
“I'm sure of it,” Blake ae Reese ic 
The little suspicions both he se Tot aa en- 
tertained of their companion seemed to have van-— 
ished. Certainly he neither did r nor said pebais 


te as his great friends. ‘i, 
the Trey accident. 


s cause. malaria he yellow fever, ‘among 
things. ; But, thanks to 0 the z | | 





IN DIRE PERIL : 123 


ican sanitary engineers the mosquitoes are greatly 
lessened in the canal zone. 

“And now for some real jungle life!” cried 
Blake the next day, as the little party set off into 
the forest, a group of laborers with machetes go- 
ing ahead to clear the way. 

For several miles nothing worth “ filming ” was 
seen, and Blake and Joe were beginning to feel 
that perhaps they had had their trouble for noth- 
ing. Now and then they came to little clearings 
in the thick jungle, where a native had chopped 
down the brush and trees to make a place for his 
palm-thatched and mud-floored hut. A few of 
them clustered about formed a village. Life was 
very simple in the jungle of Panama. 

“Oh, Blake, look!” suddenly cried Joe, as they 
were walking along a native path. ‘“ What queer 
insects. They are like leaves.” 

The boys and Mr. Alcando saw what seemed to 
be a procession of green leaves making its way 
through the jungle. | 

“Those are real leaves the ants carry,” ex- 
plained the guide, who spoke very good English. 
“They are called leaf-cutting ants, and each one 
of them is really carrying a leaf he has cut from 
some tree.” 

On closer inspection the boys saw that this was 
so. Each ant carried on its back a triangular 


“ perce. was that. ae eS was ie with. th 


x my thin edge forward, SO it uous not blow in th 


wind. 
“What do they do way ’em?” sees Jo 
Eat ’em, or make houses of ’em?” vit 
“Neither,” replied the guide. “The snes put 
the leaves away until they are covered with a 
fungus growth. It is this fungus that the ants 
eat, and when it has all been taken from the 
leaves they are brought out of the ant home 
and a fresh lot of leaves are brought 1s: Thes 
ants are bringing in a fresh lot now, you see.” 
“How odd!” exclaimed Blake.. 


Ao et a picture of this, Joe.” 


“We sure must!” agreed his churn. 


“But how can you take moving pictures re) 


such small things as ants?” asked Mr. Alc 
“We'll put on an enlarging lens, and get 
~ camera close to them,” explained Blake, who ha 
had experience in taking several films af this so 
_ for the use of schools and colleges. ey, 
_ A halt was called while the camera was Cee d 


sng procession, ; carrying “the” ee Ww 
“ looked like ee sails over their backs, the fi 





IN DIRE PERIL 125 


on the screen, in moving picture theaters from 
Maine to California. | 

“Well, that was worth getting,” said Blake, 
as they put away the camera, and went on again. , 
“TI wonder what we'll see next?” 

“Have you any wild beasts in these jungles?” 
asked Mr. Alcando of the Indian guide. 

“Well, not many. We have some deer, 
though this is not the best time to see them. 
And once in a while you'll see a —’ 

*“What’s that?’ suddenly interrupted Blake, 
pointing through the thick growth of trees. “TI 
saw some animal moving then. Maybe it was 
adeer. I'd like to get a picture of it.”’ 

There was a movement in the underbrush, and 
a shouting among the native carriers. 

-“Come on!” cried Joe, dashing ahead with a 
camera. 

“Better wait,” advised Mr. ‘Alcando. “It 
might be something dangerous.” 

“It’s only some tapirs, I think,” the guide said. 
“ They are harmless.” 

“Then we'll film them,” decided Blake, 
though the mere fact of harm or danger being 
absent did not influence him. 

Both he and Joe had taken pictures of dan- 
gerous wild animals in Africa, and had stood at 
the camera, calmly turning the handle, when it 


i ecined as though doa was on its way tow: 
them in horrible form. Had occasion demanded 
it now they would have gone on and obtained. 
the pictures. But there ee no it cee from 
the tapirs. i a 
The pictures obtained ee were not ve 
satisfactory.. The light was poor, for the jungle 
was dense there, and the tapirs took fright al- 
most at first, so the resultant film, as Blake and 
Joe learned later, when it was developed, w 
hardly worth the trouble they took. Still, 
showed one feature of the Panama jungle. 

All about the boys was a wonderful and dense. 
caren There were many beautiful orchids to” 
‘be seen, hanging from trees as though they reall 

' grew, as their name indicates, i in the air. Blak 
and Joe took views of some of the most Ddeau 
ful. There was one, known as the “Ho 
Ghost ” which only blooms twice a year, and. 
when the petals slowly open there is. seen inside 
them something which resembles a dove. 

“* Let's. get some pictures” of the next. a 


" millage we come to,” suggested | Blake, ‘as the: 


: ‘went on after pote the Great and t 
x Sale 
 * All right, that See to go 0 good as ite 
a a type 0 of life BG aaa a aes , 





IN DIRE PERIL 127 


a stop in the next settlement, or “ clearing,” as it 
more properly should be called. 

At first the native Indians were timid about 
posing for their pictures, but the guide of the boys’ 
party explained, and soon they were as eager as. 
children to be snapped and filmed. 

“This is the simple life, all right,’ remarked 
_ Blake, as they looked at the collection of huts. 
“Gourds and cocoanut shells for kitchen uten- 
sils, 

That was all, really, the black housekeeper had. 
But she did not seem to feel the need of more. 
The Panama Indians are very lazy. If one has 
sufficient land to raise a few beans, plantains and 
yams, and can catch a few fish, his wants are 
supplied. He burns some charcoal for fuel, and 
tests the remainder of the time. 

* That is, when he doesn’t go out to get some 
fresh meat for the table,’ explained the guide. 

“Meat? Where can he get meat in the jungle, 
unless he spears a tapir?”’ asked Blake. 

“There’s the iguana,’ the guide said, with 4 
laugh. 

“Do they eat them?” cried Joe, for several 
times in the trip through the jungles he had 
jumped aside at a sight of the big lizards, which 
are almost as large as cats. They are probably 


18 


the aolicet! creatures in cles ie we except t 1 


“ ' horned toad and the rhinoceros. 
| “Eat them! I should say they did!” cried 


the guide. “Come over here.” 


He led the way toward a hut and there the hove 
saw a most repulsive, and, to them, cruel sight. 
There were several of the big iguanas, or lizards, 
‘with their short legs twisted and crossed over 
their backs. And, to keep the legs in this posi- 
_ tion the sharp claw of one foot was thrust through 
the fleshy part of another foot. The tail of ac | 


- iguana had been cut off. 


“What in the eee do they do that for? " 


ry asked Blake. 


_ “That’s how they fatten the iguanas,” ‘ta 
guide said.“ The natives catch them alive, and 
a to keep them from crawling off they fasten their 
legs in that manner. And, as the tail isn vt fae 


to eat, they chop that off.” 

aia it s cruel!” cried Joe. 

ER Yes, but the Indians don’t mean it 50,” 
hs guide went on. 


ean ; practice. ce d a anything - ee ou 


ay 





IN DIRE PERIL 129 


work ; but this plan seems to them to be the easiest, 
so they keep it up.” 

“Is iguana really good eating?’’ asked Joe. 

“Yes, it tastes like chicken,’ the guide in- 
formed them. “But few white persons can 
bring themselves to eat it.” 

** Id rather have the fruits,” said Mr. Alcando. 
‘The boys had eaten two of the jungle variety. 
One was the mamaei, which was about as large 
as a peach, and the other the sapodilla, fruit of 
the color of a plum. ‘The seeds are in a jelly- 
like mass. 

You eat them and on t have to be afraid of 
appendicitis,” said the Spaniard with a laugh. 

Several views were taken in the jungle “ vil- 
lage,” as Joe called it, and then they went farther 
on into the deep woods. 

“Whew! It’s hot!” exclaimed Joe, as they 
stopped to pitch a camp for dinner. “I’m go- 
ing to have a‘swim.’’ ‘They were near a good- 
sized stream. 

“Tm with you,” said Blake, and the boys 
were soon splashing away in the water, which 
was cool and pleasant. 

*‘ Aren’t you coming in?” called Blake to Mr. 
‘Alcando, who was on. shore. 

“ Yes, I think I will join you,” he replied. He 






130 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


had begun to undress, when Blake, who had — 
swum half-way across the stream, gave a sudden © 
cry. 7 
“Joe! Joe!” he shouted. “I’m taken with © 
a cramp, and there is an alligator after me. © 
Help!” j 


CHAPTER XV-; 
IN CULEBRA CUT 


Jor sprang to his feet at the sound of his 
chum’s voice. He had come ashore, after splash- 
ing around in the water, and, for the moment, 
Blake was alone in the river. 

As Joe looked he saw a black, ugly snout, and 
back of it a glistening, black and knobby body, 
moving along after Blake, who was making 
frantic efforts to get out of the way. 

“Tm coming, Blake! I’m coming!” cried 
Joe, as he ran to the edge of the stream, with 
the intention of plunging in. 

“You will be too late,” declared Mr. Alcando. 
“The alligator will have him before you reach 
him. Oh, that I was a good swimmer, or that 
I had a weapon.” 

But. Joe did not stay to hear what he said. 
But one idea was in his mind, that of rescuing 
his chum from peril. That he might not be in 
time never occurred to him. 3 

Blake gave a gurgling cry, threw up his hands, 


131 


{> 


ey excitedly in. | 

No, not yet. I’ guess maybe he sank to an 
the alligator,” said the guide, an educated Indian 
named Ramo. “TI wonder if I can stop him with 
one shot?” he went on, taking up a powerfu 
rifle that had been megs with the camp cap 
cement. 


_ Blake had last Hees chested: 
“It’s my only chance!” muttered. Ramo. 


«T hope the boy stays under water.” ce 
As he spoke the guide raised the rifle, too 4: 
es but careful aim, and fired. There was, n 


was a commotion in the water. Amid a smoth 

of foam, bright red showed. a 
“You hit him, Ramo!” cried the - Spania 

“ You hit him!” 3 

“TI guess I did,” the Indian answered. 

| where is Blake?” 





IN CULEBRA CUT 133 


{ralian crawl stroke, which takes one through 
the water at such speed. Just what Joe could 
do when he reached his chum he did not stop to 
think. Certainly the two wouid have been no 
niatch for the big alligator. 

But the monster had met his match in the 
steel-jacketed mushrooming bullet. It had struck 
true and after a death struggle the horrid crea- 
ture sank beneath the surface just as Blake shot 
up, having stayed under as long as he could. 

“All right, Blake! Here you are! I’m with 
you!” cried Joe, changing his course to bring 
himself to his chum. “ Are you all right?” 

“Yes, except for this cramp. The alligator 
didn’t get near enough to do any damage. But 
where is he?” 

“Ramo shot him,” answered Joe, for he had 
seen the creature sink to its death. “ You’re 
all right now. Put your hand on my shoulder, 
and Pll tow you in.” : 

“Guess you'll have to. I can’t seem to swim. 
I dived down when I saw how near the beast 
was getting, thinking I might fool him. I hated 
to come up, but I had to,” Blake panted. 

“Well, you’re all right now,” Joe assured him, — 
“but it was a close call. How did it happen?” 

“17m sure I don’t know,” said Blake, still out 
of breath from trying to swim under water. “If 


b 





never have gone so far from shore.” 











When it headed for me I thought it was funny, 


a water shallow enough to wade in, “ but if it hadn’ t 


ey different story to tell.” 













134. MOVING PICTURE Boy, 


Pe known there were alligators in Has river Te 


 “That’s right,” agreed Joe, looking around as 
_ though to make sure no more of the creatures - 
were in sight. : 
He saw none. On the shore stood Ramo, the 
guide, with ready rifle. | 
“Feel better now?” asked Joe. 
“Yes, the cramp seems to be leaving me. I 
think I went in swimming too soon after eating 
those plantains,” for they had been given some 
of the yellow bananas by a native when they 
_ stopped at his hut for some water. “ They up- 
set me,’ Blake explained. “I was swimming . 
about, waiting for you to come back and join me, — 
_ when I saw what I thought was a log in the water. — 







-and then, when I saw what it was, I realized I’d : 
better be getting back to shore. I tried, but was — 
(asa ts with a fierce ee You heard me Wea in. Le | 
time.” See 

rat €ossale responded Joe, as he and Blake reached 









. been for Ramo’s gun — well, there might. be a 























: Shaw t forget it. 2 
“Oh, it wasn’t anything to pop over an alliga- 
2 tor that way,” Ramo returned. “I’ve often done Rae: 
it for sport. Though I will admit I was a bit ae 
"nervous this time, for fear of hitting you” 
“J wish I had been the one to shoot it,’ said 
the Spaniard. | bya 
_ “Why?” asked Joe, as he sat down on the 
arm sandy bank of the stream to rest. hie ena ae 
_ “Why, then I should have repaid, ina smal} 
measure, the debt I am under to you boys foe 
saving my life. I shall never forget that.” Be 
7 ys. “Jt wasn’t anything,” Silat Blake quickly, — 
c T: mean, what we did for you.” ae 
fae It meant a see deal — to me, ’ returned the 





in i tone. “ Perhaps I shall soon be able: to a ee 
out no matter. Are there many alligators i in this . 
4 stream? ” he asked of Ramo. re 
“Oh, yes, more or less, just as there are in 
ost of the Panaman rivers. But I never knew 
one to be so bold as to attack any one in daylight. 
nue Say take dogs, pigs, or somes Hee 


















a 


No one else felt like going | in 1 swimming jus | 
_ then, and the two boys dressed. Blake had fully 
recovered from the Bee: that had so net 
been his undoing. | | i 
For a week longer he lived in tite single . 


_ moving from place to place, camping in different — 


locations and enjoying as much as they could the 
_ life in the wild. Blake and Joe made some good 
moving picture films, Mr, Alcando helping them, 


cameras. . 

But the views, of course, were not as soothe as 
_ those the boys had obtained when in the African 
jungle. These of the Panama wilds, however, 


i - were of value in the series of ine 
“Well, we ‘ll soon be jalfoat again, 


93 


remarked 





IN CULEBRA CUT 137, 


towered a high hill through which had been dug 
a great gash. 

“Culebra Cut!” cried Blake, as he saw, in the 
distance Gold Hill, the highest point. “ We must 
get some pictures of this, Joe.” 

“That’s right, so we must. Whew! It is a 
big cut all right!” he went on. “No wonder 
they said it was harder work here than at the 
Gatun Dam. And it’s here where those big slides 
have been?” 

“Yes, and there may be again,” said Blake. 

“TI hope not!” exclaimed Captain Watson. 
“ They are not only dangerous, but they do ter- 
rible damage to the Canal and the machinery. 
We want no more slides.” 

“But some are predicted,” Blake remarked. 

“Yes, I know they say they come every so 
often. But now it would take a pretty big one 
to do much damage. We have nearly tamed 
Culebra.” 

“Tf there came a big slide here it would block 
the Canal,” observed Mr. Alcando, speculatively. 

“Yes, but what would cause a slide?’”’ asked 
the captain. 

“Dynamite could do it,’ was the low-voiced 
answer, 

“Dynamite? Yes, but that is guarded 
against,’ the commander said. ‘“ We are taking 


138 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


no chances. Now, boys, you get a good view of 
Culebra,” and he pointed ahead. Blake and Joe 
were soon busy with their cameras, making dif- 
ferent sets of views. 

“Hand me that other roll of film; will you,' 
please?’ asked Blake of the Spaniard, who was 
helping them. “ Mine is used up.” 

As Mr. Alcando passed over the box he mut- 
tered, though possibly he was unaware of it: 

“Yes, dynamite here, or at the dam, would 
do the work.” 

“What — what’s that?” cried Blake, in sur- 
prise. 


CHAPTER XVI 
THE COLLISION 


Jupeine by Mr. Alcando’s manner no one 
would have thought he had said anything out of 
the ordinary. But both Blake and Joe had heard 
his low-voiced words, and both stared aghast 
at him. 

“What's that you said?” asked Blake, won- 
dering whether he had caught the words aright. 

“ Dynamite!’’ exclaimed Joe, and then Blake 
knew he had made no mistake. 

Somewhat to the surprise of himself and his 
chum the Spaniard smiled. 

“TI was speaking in the abstract, of course,” 
he said. “I have a habit of speaking aloud 
when I think. I merely remarked that a charge 
of dynamite, here in Culebra Cut, or at Gatun 
Dam, would so damage the Cong that it might 
be out of business for years.” 

“You don’t mean to say that you know of any 
one who would do such a thing!”’ cried Blake, 
holding the box of unexposed film that the Spani- 
ard had given him. 

139 


ise Of course not, my one (abe Ke I was see 
ing in the abstract, I tell you. It occurred to 
me how easy it would be for some enemy to so 
_ place a charge of explosive. I don’t see why the — 
Canal is not better ee You Americans are ; 
too trusting!” | i 
~“ What’s that?” asked Captain Watson, com- 4 
ing up at this juncture. | ee 
“‘T was merely speaking to the boys about ey 
easy it would be to put a charge of dynamite here 
in the cut, or at the dam, and damage the Canal,” 
explained Mr. Alcando. “TI believe they thought 
I meant to do it,” he added with a laugh, as he 
glanced at the serious faces of the two moving 
_ picture boys. | 
OA Weblo ters 1 ee stammered Blakes 
Somewhat to his own surprise he did find himself 
_ harboring new suspicions against Mr. Alcando, 
but they had never before taken this form. As 
for Joe, he blushed to recall that he had, in the ‘ 
A * past, also been somewhat suspicious of the Spani- 
a But now the man’s frank manner of ee 


oe Dyan eh!” evel the captain. - 
- Gust like to see any one try it. This canal i : 
rca 


better guarded than you think, my eres eS 
- helo ered moore at ee other, ee 





THE COLLISION I4I 


“Oh, I have no doubt that is so,” was the quick 
response. ‘“‘ But it seems such a simple matter 
for one to do a great damage to it. Possibly the 
indifference to guarding it is but seeming only.” 

“That's what it is!” went on Captain Wat- 
son. “Dynamite! Huh! Id like to see some- 
one try it!” He meant, of course, that he would 
mot like to see this done, but that was his sar- 
castic manner of speaking. 

“ What do you think of him, anyhow?” asked 
Joe of Blake a little later when they were putting 
away their cameras, having taken all the views 
they wanted. 

“TI don’t know what to say, Joe,’ was the slow 
answer. “I did think there was something queer 
about Alcando, but I guess I was wrong. It 
gave me a shock, though, to hear him speak so 
about the Canal.” | 

“The same here. But he’s a nice chap just 
the same, and he certainly shows an interest in 
moving pictures.” 

“That's right. We're getting some good ones, 
C5 eae , 

The work in Culebra Cut, though nearly fin- 
ished, was still in such a state of progress that 
many interesting films could be made of it, and 
this the boys proposed to do, arranging to stay, 


tat MOVING PICTURE BOYS 1 PAN M 


a week or more at the place. which? more “th 
any other, had made trouble for the canal build 
ers. : | 

“Well, it ee is a vate piece of work! 
exclaimed Blake, as he and Joe, with Mr. Al-— 
~-cando and Captain Watson, went to the top of 
Gold Hill one day. They were on the hisheces 
point of the small mountain through which ie f 
cut had to be dug. 

“Tt is a wonderful piece of work,” the cap 
tain said, as Blake and Joe packed up the cameras 
they had been using. ‘ Think of it —a cut nine 
miles long, with an average depth of one hun- 
_ dred and twenty feet, and in some places the 
sides are five hundred feet above the bottom, 
_ which is, at no point, less than three hundre 
feet in width. A big pile of dirt had to be take 
out of here, boys.” ae aa 

“Yes, and more dirt will have to be,” said M 
Alcando. | 
“What do you mean?” asked ne tug com 

mander quickly, and rather sharply. 
; “I mean that nae are poe to ove 

are they not?” : 7 
“Yes, worse luck 1? growled the captai 


an hues oT here have been two or three small ones 
ce the past few wenn: and the worst of it i th 





THE COLLISION 143 


“Yes, that’s what I meant,” the Spaniard went 
on. 

“And it’s what we heard,” spoke Blake. 
“We expect to get some moving pictures of a 
big slide if one occurs.” 

“Not that we want it to,’ explained Joe 
quickly. 

“T understand,” the captain went on with a 
smile. ‘‘ But if it is going to happen you want 
to be here.” 

“ Exactly,’ Blake said. “We want to show 
the people what a slide in Culebra looks like, 
and what it means, in hard work, to get rid of 
it.” 

“Well, it’s hard work all right,” the captain 
admitted, “though now that the water is in, and 
we can use scows and dredges, instead of rail- 
road cars, we can get rid of the dirt easier. 
You boys should have been here when the cut 
was being dug, before the water was let in.” 

““T wish we had been,’ Blake said. ‘* We 
could have gotten some dandy pictures.” 

“That's what you could,” went on the cap- 
tain. “It was like looking at a lot of ants 
through a magnifying glass. Big mouthfuls of 
dirt were being bitten out of the hill by steam 
shovels, loaded on to cars and the trains of cars 
were pulled twelve miles away to the dumping 






















minute or so, the puffing ce engines, the tootin ) 
of whistles, the creaking of derricks and steam ~ 
shovels — why it was something worth seeing!” 
“Sorry we missed it,” Joe said. “ But 
maybe we'll get some pictures just as good.” 

-. “Tt won’t be anything like that — not even ae 
cee s a big slide,” the captain said, shaking his 
head doubtfully. | | 
Though the Canal was practically finished, and 
open to some vessels, there was much that yet 
Pica, - remained to be done upon it, and this work Blake 
i ie and Joe, with Mr. Alcando to. help them at the 
cameras, filmed each day. Reel after reel of 
the sensitive celluloid was exposed, packed in) 
light-tight boxes and sent North for develop: 
ment and printing. At times when they re- — 
mained in Culebra Cut, wie ae did for tw i 

























Mr. Alcando was 5 ane Ae exp a 
sti a ies Picture c camera, and Ste he , 


THE COLLISION . 145 


“I wonder how our films are coming out?” 
asked Blake one day, after a fresh supply of 
reels had been received. “ We haven’t heard 
whether Mr. Hadley likes our work or not?” 

“Hard to tell,” Joe responded. But they 
knew a few days later, for a letter came prais- 
ing most highly the work of the boys and, in- 
cidentally, that of Mr. Alcando. 

“You are doing fine!” Mr. Hadley wrote. 
“Keep it up. The pictures will make a sensa- 
tion. Don’t forget to film the slide if one oc- 
curs.”’ 

“Of course we'll get that,” Joe said, as he 
looked up at the frowning sides of Culebra Cut. 
“Only it doesn’t s¢éem as if one was going to 
happen while we’re here.” 

“TI hope it never does,” declared Captain Wat- 
son, solemnly. 

As the boys wanted to make pictures along the 
whole length of the Canal, they decided to go on 
through the Pedro Miguel and Miraflores locks, 
to the Pacific Ocean, thus making a complete trip, 
and then come back to Culebra. Of course no one 
could tell when a slide would occur, and they 
had to take chances of filming it. 

Their trip to Pedro Miguel was devoid of in- 
cident. At those locks, instead of “ going up 
stairs” they went down, the level gradually fall- 





















Pe 6 MOVING PICTURE Bors. ar PANAMA ; 





Ry A: ing so their boat came nearer to dhe surtaes of 
a the Pacific. A mile and a half farther on os 
would reach Miraflores. 

The tug had approached the central: pier, to 
which it was tied, awaiting the services of the 
electrical locomotives, when back of them came 
a steamer, one of the first foreign vessels f ; 
apply to make the trip through the Isthmus. 
aH “That fellow is coming a little too close to : 
me for comfort,” Captain Watson observed as — 
iB he watched the approaching vessel. alee 

_ Blake and Joe, who were standing near the 
commander at the pilot house, saw Mr. Alcando 

: 3 come up the companionway and stand on deck, 

We __ staring at the big steamer. A little breeze, ‘suc- 

ceeding a dead calm, ruffled a flag at the stern 
of the steamer, and the boys saw the Brazilia 

colors flutter in the wind. At the same moment 












| one on the steamer’s deck. ; 
204. Look out: where youre on x ‘eae 
eS yelled es Watson. 





CHAPTER XVII 
THE EMERGENCY DAM 


Tue crashing and splintering of wood, the 
grinding of one vessel against the other at the 
concrete pier, the shrill tooting of the whistles, 
and the confused shouts of the respective cap- 
tains of the craft made a din out of which it 
seemed order would never come. 

“If I could only get this on a film!” said Joe 
to himself during a calm moment. But the cam- 
eras were below in the cabin, and the tug was 
now careened at such an angle that it was risky 
to cross the decks. Besides Joe must think of 
saving himself, for it looked as though the tug 
would be crushed and sunk. 

“Pull us out of here!” yelled Captain Wat- 
son to the man on the lock wall in charge of the 
electrical towing locomotives. “ Pull us out!” 

That seemed one way out of the trouble, for 
the Nama was being crushed between the Bra- 
zilian steamer and the wall. But the order had 
come too late, for now the tug was wedged in, 
and no power could move her without ‘tearing 

147 


. M8 


/ her to pieces, until the pressure of the big steam 
‘was removed. | ee 


D techines did not follow Captain Weronst or: 
- ders. 
“ Over’ this way!” cred Blake to his chum 
-and to Mr. Alcando, who were standing amid : 
ships. Joe was at the bow, and because that 
was narrower than the main portion of the ‘tug, 
it had not yet been Pub irate to the ae pres- 
sure. 
But there was no need of Joe or the others, me 
including Captain Watson, changing their posi 
tions. The Brazilian ship now began drawing — 
away, aided by her own engines, and by the tow 
ropes extending from the other side of the lock 
wall. The Nama, which had been partly lifted 
; up in the air, as a vessel in He Arctic Ocean » is 


; slowly in ey water. avis 
Pon, SAG sinking!” cried Blake. | 
- eras—our films, Joe!™ : oe, 
“Ves, we must save them'! 1” his cute shou dog 
“Tl help!” offered the Spaniard. ae Are we 4 
done sinking?” aan 
“WOE: courset”? shouted ‘Crain. Ww 
he af “ ‘How cee arene Mec aft r be 





THE EMERGENCY. DAM 149 


squeezed in that kind of a cider press? We'll 
go to the bottom sure!” 

“Leave the boat!” yelled one of the men on 
top of the lock wall. “ We're going to tow you 
out of the way, so when you sink you won't 
block the lock!” 

“Let’s get out our stuff!” Blake ad again, 
and realizing, but hardly understanding, what 
was happening, the boys rushed below to saye 
what they could. 

Fortunately it was the opening of many seams, 
caused by the crushing process, rather than any 
great hole stove in her, that had brought about 
the end of the Nama. She began to sink slowly 
at the pier, and there was time for the removal 
of most of the articles of value belonging to the 
boys and Mr. Alcando. 

Hastily the cameras, the boxes of exposed and 
unexposed film, were hoisted out, and then when 
all had been saved that could be quickly put 
ashore, the tug was slowly towed out of the way, 
where it could sink and not be a menace to navi- 
gation, and without blocking the locks. — 

“Poor Nama,’ murmured Captain Watson. 
** To go down like that, and not your own fault, 
either,’ and he looked over with no very friendly 
eyes toward the Brazilian steamer, which had 
suffered no damage more than to her paint. 


























1 MOVING PICTURE Bos AT PANAMA 
‘ | af You can raise her again, ’ suggested one of 
a Vs.) athe: tock mer. - 
Yes, but she’ll never be the same, sees sit 
fully complained her atte ee “Never the — 
same! ” ; sat Au 
“ How did it ihe y paked Blake, or ss. 
there a misunderstanding in signals? ” 
- “Must have been something like that,” eon ’ 
tain Watson answered. “That vessel ought to ‘ 
Ne have stayed tied up on her own side of the lock. 
oe Instead she came over here under her own steam 
a and crashed into me. I’m going to demand an 
investigation. Do you know anyone on board | 
her?” he asked quickly of the Spaniard. ee 
ss saw you waving to someone.” Fae 
UO AVN Ca Why, yes, the captain is a distant relative of | 
mine,” was the somewhat unexpected answer. 
‘“T did not know he was going to take his vessel 
through the Canal, though. I was surprised to. 
-see him. But I am sure you will find that oe a 
tain Martail will give you every explanation.” 
_ “T don’t want explanations —I want satise : 
_ faction! ” growled the tug Pat, | a 
eye Chere | goes tue Nama,” called Blake, ein 
» ing to the tug. : 


39 



















in the water, but she did not sink altogether fom 
aU siene as she was towed toward ‘the ‘shore, a 





ISI 


could be more easily reached for repairs. 


ia 


¥ 


‘ 
j 
‘ 
a 
4 
; 
3 
y 
: 
y 
a 


Y 


é 
‘ 
fi 
‘ 


¢ 
é 


. 
| 


N! 
— 
y 


“Tt was a narrow escape,” Joe said. ‘ What 
_ ‘are we to do now, Blake? Too bad we didn’t 
get some moving pictures of that accident.” 


if 
cas 
Lan 

et 
Dos 
+ 

F 

4 

; 


“Well, maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t,” 
returned his chum. ‘‘ The Canal is supposed to 
be so safe, and free from the chance of acci- 
dents, that it might injure its reputation if a 
picture of a collision like that were shown. 
Maybe it’s just as well.” 

“ Better,” agreed Captain Watson. ‘As you 
say, the Canal is supposed to be free from acci- 
dents. And, when everything gets working 
smoothly, there will be none to speak of. Some 
of the electrical controlling devices are not yet 
in place. If they had been that vessel never 


— could have collided with us.” 


ee 


~ 


a 


_ “T should think her captain would know bet- 
ter than to signal for her to proceed under her 
own power in the Canal lock,” spoke Joe. 

_ “Possibly there was some error in transmit- 


ting signals on board,” suggested Mr. Alcando. 


And later they learned that this was, indeed, the 


case; or at least that was the reason assigned by | 





the Brazilian commander for the accident. His 


vessel got beyond control. 


“ Well, it’s lucky she didn’t ram the gates, and — 








152 “MOVING PICTURE Bors 4’ 


nae ont a flood of water,” ‘said Jor | to Blake 
little after the occurrence. aN 
“ Yes, if that had happened Wed shave hadi to 
Bake pictures whether we wanted to or not. 
- But I wonder what we are going to do fora boat, ; 
now?” 
- However, that. question was ‘easily settled, for 
Miiere were other Government vessels to be had, 
_ and Blake, Joe and Mr. Alcando, with their cam- 
-eras, films and other possessions, were soon, 
- transferred, to continue their trip, in the Bohio, 
which was the name of the new vessel. The | 
_ Nama was left for the wrecking crew. oa 
“Well, this isn’t exactly the quiet life we a 
Nackert for in the canal zone; is it, Blake?” asked | 
aes that night as he and his chum were putting 
their new stateroom to rights, 
“Hardly. Things have begun to happeee and 
I’ve noticed, Joe, that, once they begin, they keep 
up. I think we are in for something.” hi 
~ “Do you mean a big slide in Culebra Cut? or 
Ms “Well, that may be only part of it. I hav 


i we’ re on the eve > of something big” 


oa ie for instance —” Bee 





THE EMERGENCY DAM 153 


tured. “Do you know, Blake, I’ve wondered 
several times whether that one to-day was not 
done on purpose.” 

Blake stared at his chum, and then, to Joe’s 
surprise replied: 

“ And I’ve been thinking the same thing.” 

“You haver” Joe exclaimed. “Now If 
say 578? 

“ Hush!” cautioned Blake quickly, “ he’s com- 
ing!” 

The door of their stateroom opened, and Mr. 
Alcando entered. He had a room across the 
corridor. : 

“Am I intruding?” he asked. “If I am—” 

* Not at all.. Come in,” answered Blake, with 
a meaning look at his chum. 

“I wanted to ask you something about mak- 
ing double exposures on the same film,” the 
Spaniard went on. ‘‘ You know what I mean; 
when a picture is shown of a person sitting by a 
_ fireside, say, and above him or her appears a 
vision of other days.” 

‘ “Qh, yes, we can tell you how that is done,” 
Joe said, and the rest of the evening was spent 
in technical talk. 

“ Well, what were you going to say about that 
collision?” asked Joe of Blake when Mr. Al- 
cando had left them, at nearly midnight. 



























Seg 334 MOVING PICTURE Boys AT panaua < 





Re OO FT pdon’t: think its “exactly. ake to say what 
Ey Set think, was Bie response. “I think he 
| is — suspicious of us,” he finished in a whisper. Me 
BN  “ Let’s watch and await developments.” : 
© But what object could he —” 
Never mind — now,” rejoined Blake, with 
a gesture of caution. 
: | Several busy days followed the sinking of iia! 
Nama. . The moving picture boys went through 
_ the Miraflores locks, making some fine films, and 
then proceeded on to the Pacific Ocean break- 
water, thus making a complete trip through the — 
Canal, obtaining a series of pictures showing — 
scenes all along the way. They also took sev- 
Fea eral views in the city of Panama itself. _ 
aes a ’ Of course theirs was not the first vessel to 
gmake the complete trip, so that feature lost some-_ 
thing of its novelty. But the boys were well ; 
satisfied with their labors. ~ eri 
s “ We're not through, though, by any means,” 
a - said Blake. “We have to get some pictures of 
Gatun Dam from the lower side. I think “a 
- few more jungle scenes, and some along the t 
Panama Railroad, wouldn’t go bad.” 35 
That's! right," sane Joe. 

























uf ae Colon. ey 
Once: more they were - eka for RE. 


THE EMERGENCY DAM 155 


this time to be lifted up at Miraflores, instead 
of being let down. They approached the cen- 
tral pier, were taken in charge by the electrical 
locomotives, and the big chain was lowered so 
they could proceed. 

Just as the lower gate was being swung open 
to admit them to the lock, there was a cry of 
warning from above. | 

What's that?’’ cried Joe. 

“TI don’t know,” Blake answered, “but it 
sounds as though something were going to hap- 
pen. I didn’t have all those feelings for noth~- 
ing!” 

Then came a cry: 

“The upper gate! The upper gate is open! 
The water is coming down! Put the emergency 
dam in place! Quick!” 

Joe and Blake looked ahead to see the upper 
gates, which were supposed to remain closed 
until the boat had risen to the upper level, swing 
open, and an immense quantity of foamy water 
rush out. It seemed about to overwhelm them. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


‘THE BIG age 


‘ 


NS Lal to pean the Bohio, -and when it did the 
sc tue began to sway and tug at the mooring 


i * be stowed. is o7acaas 
. - Blake rushed toward the ewer cabin. — 
_ “Where are you going? cried Joe. iN 
pene wih ke ms the cameras,’ 
pausing, — 
But we Nabe oon Keno) 
selves!” shouted Mr. Alcando. se This : 
; time for making moving pictures.” — ays 
A We ve got to make it this time!” Joe | 
‘ : You’ ll find you’ ve go 
i to ‘make moving pictures when ; you cam, ‘not ot whe 








THE BIG SLIDE 1S7 
y mae pictures in the face of a great danger — 
_ to stand calmly with a camera, turning the crank 
and getting view after view on the strip of cellu- 
loid film, while a flood of water rushed down 
on you. It was something he never dreamed of. 
But he was not a “quitter,” which word, 
_ though objectionable as slang, is most satisfac- 
- torily descriptive. . 
“VI help!” the young Spaniard cael as he . 
_ followed Blake and Joe down to where the cam- 
eras and films were kept. 

On came the rush of water, released by the 
accidental opening of the upper lock gates be- 
_ fore the lower ones were closed. The waters’ 
_ of Gatun Lake were rushing to regain the free- 
_ dom denied them by the building of the locks. 
But they were not to have their own way for 
long. Even this emergency, great as it was, un- 
_ likely as it was to happen, had been foreseen by 
_ those who built the Canal. | 
het The dam } pyane over the emergency 
dam!” came the cry. 

The Bohio was now straining and pulling at 
her cables. Fortunately they were long enough 
to enable her to rise on the flood of the rushing 
water, or she might have been held down, and — 
so overwhelmed. But she rose like a cork, 





_ though she plunged and swayed under the in- : ise 
















158 _ MOVING PICTURE Boys AT PANAMA 


fluence of the terrible current, Sohres was Tike 
mill race. o 
“Use both cameras!” cried Blake, as i ley 
_Joe each came on deck bearing one, while Mr 


_ Alcando followed with spare reels of film. ; 
















“We'll both take pictures,’ Blake went on. — 
“One set may be spoiled!” ous 

Then he and his chum, setting up their cam- 
eras on the tripods, aimed the lenses at the ad- 
vancing flood, at the swung-back gates and a 
the men on top of the concrete walls, ox 
ing to bring into place the emergency dam. 

It was a risky thing to do, but then Blake anal 
Joe were used to doing risky things, and this 
was no more dangerous than the chances ey 
had taken in the jungle, or in earthquake land. 
_ On rushed the water. The tug rose and fel 
on the bosom of the flood, unconfined as it was by 
the restraining gates. And as the sturdy vesse “i 
swayed this way and that, rolling at her ‘moor-. 
ings and threatening every moment to break anc 

- rush down the Canal, Blake and Joe stood a’ 
their posts, turning the cranks. And_ besi 
them stood Mr. Alcando, if not as calm as the 

ae bre at least as indifferedh to ee fate. 



















ae the rush oe water was — 


— to at to allow of much relief. 


ried Piss 

“Gone out, you mean?” kgs Joe above the 
oar of waters. : 
ee No, it’s being swung into place. It'll be all 


~ over in a few minutes. Good thing we got the 


pictures when we did.” 
Across the lock, about two hundred feet move 
_ the upper gate, was being swung into place the 
Z steel emergency dam, designed to meet and over- 
"come just such an accident as had occurred, 

_ These dams were worked by es a and 
: ‘could be put in place in two minutes; or, if the 
4 machinery failed, they could be worked by hand, 
though taking nearly half an hour, during which 
z time much damage might be done. But in this 
me the electrical machinery poe pn) 









. "Almost at once the rush of water senna’ 
uae eee until the tug swung ary at 


Be roctae at the crank of his ovine pice a ie 


i amera. a That was going some!” 





























, 160. “MOVING PICTURE BOYS 4 


“That’s what!” agreed a “4 «But I me ' 
we got some good films.” ie 
_ “Vou certainly deserved to!” exclaimed Mr 
Alcando, with shining eyes. “iYow are very 
brave!” . ‘ 

“Oh, it’s all in the tide S Sak. ”” spoke Blake 2 
“Now I wonder how that happened?” a, oN 

“That's what I’d like to know,” said Cas 
Wiltsey. i) . must look into this.” 


placed switch in some newly installed secciealll : 
machinery that controlled the upper lock gate 
was to blame. The lock machinery was de 
signed to be automatic, and as nearly “error 
_ proof” as anything controlled by human beings 
can be. That is to say it was planned that ne 
vessel could proceed into a lock until the fende 
chain was lowered, and that an upper gate could 
not be opened until a lower one was closed. Bu 
in this case something went wrong, and the two | 
gates were opened at once, letting out the flood 
This, however, had been foreseen, and the 
‘emergency dam provided, and it was this solid 
_ steel wall that had saved the lock from serio 
_ damage, and the Bohio from being overwhelme 
_ As it was no harm had been done and, when 
the excitement had fates jee and a 
















now work perfectly, the tug was allowed to pro- 


ceed. 


“Well, what are your plans now, boys?” 


: asked Mr. Alcando on the day after the lock ac- 


cident. 


“Back to Culebra Cut,” answered Blake. 


_ “We have orders to get a picture of a big’ slide 
_ there, and we're going to do it.” 


“Even if you have to make the slide your- 


_ self?” asked the Spaniard with a short laugh. 


a 


““Not much!” exclaimed Blake. “I’d do a 


- good deal to get the kind of moving pictures 


they want, but nothing like that. There have 
_ been some rains of late, however, and if things 
_ happen as they often have before i in the Cut there 
_ may be a slide.” 

“Yes, they do follow cue so I am told,” 


went on the Spaniard. “Well, I do not wish 


your Canal any bad luck, but if a slide does 


occur I hope it will come when you can get views 


of it.” 
“In the daytime, and nt at night, ” suggested 


Joe. 


For several days tac of interest eel 


‘Blake and Joe sent back to New York the films 

_ of the mad rush of waters through the lock, and bs 
also dispatched other views they had taken. 
_ They had gone to Culebra Cut and there tied up, 


THE BIG SLIDE 3!) 160 





tiiey would have prefer never to see another a 
| avalanche of earth descend. ) 
_ Mr. Alcando had by this time proved that he 
could take moving pictures almost as well as. 
could the boys. Of course this filming of na- 
ture was not all there was to the business. Te, 
was quite another matter to make views of the- 
atrical scenes, or to film the scene of an ere 
and outdoor drama. — 2 a 
“But I do not need any of that for my pur- ‘ 
; pose,” explained Mr. Alcando. “I just want to 


_know how to get pictures that will help ae : 
our railroad business.” _ : 
~ “You know that pretty well now,” said Blake 

ea suppose you ma soon | be oe the Canal — a 
and us,” he 


plied. “T wish you all success.” 
_ “To say nothing of the Canal,” put in Joe oe, 
“To say nothing of the Canal,” repeated t 


gti and he looked at the ea in wha 








THE BIG SLIDE 163 


“No, and yet I don’t know why either of us 


should. hold any against him,” went on Joe’s. 


chum. “Certainly he has been a good friend 
and companion to us, and he has learned 
~ quickly.” 


“Oh, yes, he’s smart enough. Well, we 


‘haven’t much more to do here... A slide, if we 
can get-one, and some pictures below Gatun Dam, 
and we can go back North.” 

“ Yes,” agreed Blake. 

“Seen anything of Alcando’s alarm clock 
model lately?” asked Joe, after a pause. 

NOt a thing, and I haven’t heard it tick. 
Either he has given up working on it, or he’s 


so interested in the pictures that he has for- 


gotten it.” 
Several more days passed, gloomy, unpleas- 
ant days, for it rained nearly all the time. Then 


one morning, sitting in the cabin of the tug 


anchored near Gold Hill, there came an alarm. 

“A land slide! <A big slide in Culebra Cut! 
_ Emergency orders!” 

“That means us!” cried Blake, springing to 
his feet, and getting out a camera. “ It’s our 
chance, Joe.” 

“Yes! Too bad, but it had to be, I suppose,” 
agreed his chum, as he slipped into a mackintosh, 
dors it was raining hard. 


hin pero 








i A 


CHAPTER XIX 


Jor’ S PLIGHT 


Frou atiede the ‘cabin ‘of the tug came a, ‘ 
confused series of sounds. First there was the 
swish and pelt of the rain, varied as the wind 
blew the sheets of water across the deck. But, 


(eer the fate oneal aes als 
Y © What will happen?” asked Mr. Alcano, a 
“he watched Ue and Blake pate aan 


"seeing that the cameras ma Ging were in a 
ness. They had brought ‘some waterproo 
‘ boxes to be used i in case of rain — some ee 7 


sissippi. 
ia No ore Lionel what will ape” 
a) Blake Saas: 








5 motion of his hand toward the side of the big 
; hill through which the Canal had been cut. 


“ Out there—of course!” cried Joe. “ We 


¢ can’t get moving pictures of the slide in here.” 


He did not intend to speak shortly, but it 


_ sounded so in the stress of his hurry. 


“Then I’m coming!” said Mr. ‘Alcando 


quietly. = “Tt I'm to do this sort of work in the 
jungle, along our railroad, I’ll need to have my 


nerve stiffened.” 

“ This will stiffen it all right,” returned Blake, 
sternly, as a louder sound from without told of 
a larger mass of the earth sliding into the waters 
of the Canal, whence the drift had been exca- 
vated with so much labor. 


It was a bad slide — the worst in the history 


of the undertaking — and the limit of it was not 


reached when Joe and Blake, with their cameras 


and spare boxes of film, went out on deck. 
‘The brown-red earth, the great rocks and the 


little stones, masses of gravel, shale, schist, cob- 


bles, fine sand— all in one intermingled mass 
was slipping, sliding, rolling, tumbling, falling 


‘ and fairly leaping down the side of Gold Hill. 


“ Come or!” cried Blake to Joe. 
Pm with you,’ was the reply. 


. * And IL, eek said Mr. Alcando with set 


on 





JOE'S PLIGHT 165, 

















a scene of the sien 
“We may not be here hed you come back!” “ 
called Captain Wiltsey after the boys. i 
oe “ Why not?” asked Joe. | (5) eam 
---- “T may have to go above or elon I don io i. 
- want to take any Niners of being rateue by a 7 
i’ Dlockade. 
Bee AT eee: We'll ae yon wherever you are,” 
ee said Blake. 
As yet the mass of slipping and sliding earth 
ne was falling into the waters of the Canal some 
_ distance from the moored tug. But there was — 
ye. telling when the slide might take in a Jarger 
area, and extend both east and west. 
_ Up a rude trail ran Blake and Joe, making 
their way toward where the movement of earth 





















Hf sure good pictures even when tae conditio 
were most. CE MRRONS 









as behind them. They t had heard the 
fed madcrs cee: ever) ( 





; - gashed along the whole length of the Canal, 


Py 

= 
; 
7 
ii 


q centrifugal pumps— the men and the machin- 


J ery that would tear out the earth that had no 
right to be where it had slid. 


‘ _ Then, seeing that the work of remedying the 


accident was under way, almost as soon as the 
accident had occurred, Blake and Joe, followed 
; “by Mr. Alcando, hurried on through the rain, 
- up to their ankles in red mud, for the rain was 
heavy. It was this same rain that had so loos- 
ened the earth that the slide was caused. | 
“Here’s a good place!” cried Blake, as he 
came to a little eminence that gave a good view 
of the slipping, sliding earth and stones. 
, “Tl go on a little farther,” said Joe. ‘ We'll 
get views from two different places.” 
_ “What can I do?” asked the Spaniard, anx- 


ious not only to help his friends, but to learn ag lire 


_ much as he could of how moving pictures are 
taken under adverse circumstances. 


© You stay with Blake,” suggested Joe. “I’ve _ 


_ got the little camera and I can handle that, and 
my extra films, alone and with ease. Stay with 
pee ; 
_ It was well the Spaniard did. 





JOBS PEIGHT ool 167 


_ bringing to the scene the scows, the dredges, the 





With a rush and roar, a ee crashing e io 





A 4 
i 


Ne 168 MOVING PICFURE BONS T PANA 


tees) any that had preceded, sipped from the -- | 


Leelee the hill, 


Blake, sathustscteateon | 
_ He had his camera in place, and was inden 
_ away at the crank, Mr. Alcando standing oe 
to assist when necessary. 
“ Take her a while,” sudprsted Blake, who. was 
“winded” from his run, aud carrying the 
heavy apparatus. | 
The big portion of the slide seemed to fone 
subsided, at least momentarily. Blake gave a 
look toward where Joe had gone. At that mo- 
ment, with a roar like a blast of dynamite, a 


‘ - whole section of the hill ‘seemed to slip away, 
and then, with a grinding crash the slanting earth 


on which Joe stood, and where he had planted 
the tripod of his camera, went out from Br 


him. 


ceane and his camera disappeates A sight ne 








CHAPTER XX 
AT GATUN DAM 


ee ee tipo ” cried Mr. Alcando. He would have 
said. more — have uttered some of the expres- 
_ sions of fear and terror that raced through his 
mind, but he could not speak the words. He 
“ could only look and point. 

But Blake, as well as the Spaniard, had seen 


oe * Onick 1” he cried. “We've got to get him — 





- ont before he smothers! Pack up this stuff!” 








‘what had happened, ant with Blake to see was to” } 


AS he spoke he folded the ee legs of his ea ie 


: seemed amd net imbedded in the soil oul at 
to ‘slip from its place. Then, placing beside it 





the spare boxes of film, and throwing over them — j 


‘ee Tubber covering: oe had pee Blake atc 4 



















cee MOVING PICTURE Boys AT PANAIL 


ie) from: the’.tng, Win had Bilawed to help a 
things if needed. “Go quick! Bring mie 
eres ishovelst “We. mays have to dig him out,” 
ee added to Mr. Alcando. | | a 
Tf if we can find him,” replied the thes 
in low tones. EUR 
“Go on—run!” cried Joe, for the Indian did 
not seem to understand. ‘Then the meaning and 
aug need of haste occurred to him. Eat 
Rak “« Si, senor, | go — pronto!” 


oe a and . 
! he was off ona run. 









right, had slid down into. tie Canal. Ty “was 
_ the outer edge of this that had engulfed Joe an : 
his camera, Had he ee directly in sa Ha 










his heart hat after all, it : might be i impossit 

rescue his chum. | 

y it “But Pl get him! Ph get him!” he : 

fiercely to himself, over and over ein it 
BES him | sf } 










ee is a ‘4 DS 


he ue 


Joan § 
vided a! 
ibe 





AT GATUN DAM’ 7 


: ree in the soft mud and sand, again finding 
some harder ground, or shelf of shale, that of- 
fered good footing, Blake and the Spaniard 
struggled on through the rain. It was still com-— 
ing down, but not as hard as before. 
- “Here’s the place!” cried Blake, coming to 
a halt in front of where several stones formed 
a rough circle. “ He’s under here.’ : | 
“No, farther on, I think,” said the Spaniard. 
‘Blake looked about him. His mind was in 
-aturmoil. He could not be certain as to the ex- 
act spot where Joe had been engulfed in the 
slide, and yet he must know to a certainty. 
‘There was no time to dig in many places, one 
after the other, to find his chum. Every second 
was vital, — / 

“Don’t you think it’s here?” Blake asked. 
“Try to think!” | 
“Tam!” the Spaniard replied. ‘ And it seems 
to me that it was farther a If there was only 
some way we could tell — 
_ The sentence trailed off into nothingness. 
There was really no way of telling. All about 
them was a dreary waste of mud, sand, boulders, — 
smaller stones, gravel and more mud — mud was 
over everything. And more mud was constantly — 
_bemg made, for the rain had not ceased. 
“I’m going to dig here!” decided Blake in 








“MOVING PICTURE Boys 1T 





















72 i | 
M desperation, as nvith his bee lands a ‘bad 
throwing aside the dirt and stones. Mr. Al- 
- cando watched him for a moment, and then, as 

though giving up his idea as to where Joe lay 
beneath the dirt, he, too, started throwing on 
either side the clay and soil. | 

Blake glanced down the hill. The Tecliaial 

messenger had disappeared, and, presumably, 
had reached the tug, and was giving the message 
| for help. Then Blake bent to his Herculean 

a task again. When next he looked up, having 
4 scooped a slight hole in the side of the hill, he 
saw a procession of men running up — men with 
| _- picks and shovels over their shoulders. He saw, 
too, a big slice of the hill in the Canal. The 
wonderful waterway was blocked at Culebra | 

Ka Cae 

Blake thought little of that then. His cone 
idea and frantic desire was to get Joe out. 
“They'll never get here in time,” said Mr. AL 
cando in a low voice. “ We'll never er him si 2 
in time.” | A 
“We— we must!” cried Blake, as again 


ae began digging. 







| eats not get hoe in Gas tee could not t 
Pe oe out in time — if it had aka on i 











vs eae a : 
aver. aa 
‘lhe 3 ¥ dies ¢ ef 


tt aati 


het ee 
Pee oy uy 


“ ~ a 
ny Ve is 
s* 5 4 


Pat eet es 


ee AT GATUN DAM 173 


exact spot where his chum lay buried, but, at 
least so it seemed, there had been such a mass of 
earth precipitated over him that it would mean 
hours before he could be gotten out. 
However, fate, luck, Providence, or whatever 
you choose to call it, had not altogether deserted 
‘the moving picture boys. The very nature of 
_ the slide, and the hill on which it had occurred, 
was in Joe’s favor. For as Blake, after a de- 
spairing glance at the approaching column of 
men, bert again to his hopeless task, there was 
a movement of the earth. 
~~“ Look out!” cried Mr. Alcando. 

He would have spoken too late had what hap- 
pened been of greater magnitude. As it was 
‘Blake felt the earth slipping from beneath his 

- feet, and jumped back apap ely. But there 
was no need. 

Beyond him another big slide had occurred, 
and between him and Mr. Alcando, and this last ne 
shift of the soil, was a ridge of rocks that held Ae 

_ them to their places. ih 

Down in a mass of mud went another portion Ace 

_ of the hill, and when it had ceased moving Blake y 
_ gave a cry of joy. For there, lying in a mass 
of red sand, was Joe himself, and beside him was 
the camera, the tripod legs sticking out at ¥ 
‘grotesque angles. — : | oe 





ce MOVING PICTURE : BOYS | te vas! J Ge 


“Joe! Joe!” verted) Blake, preparing to ‘ ) 
~ toward his ‘chim i 
 “ Be careful!’ warned Mr. iMiganto, 
may be danger —” 
But no known cane contd Hae held ake 4 
back. “a 
“He is there!” Blake cried. 
_ ging in the wrong place.” 


did not stay to Hsten to him, Now he was hy 


H) poe’ s side. The slide had laid bare a ledge an 
Cans uel seemed firm hay to remain solid ‘ 


churn. Ana ied he saw shia it was that had ; 


ee probably saved Joe’s life. The boy’s big rubber 
coat had been turned up and wound around his. 


head aud face in such a sania as to keep the 


Hours iment was the camera. a 

Rapidly Blake pulled the coat aside, 

aa pale face looked up at him. 

_ plood on the forehead, from a small cut. 

4 bid was unconscious. ao 
rans G ‘Joe! Joe!” begged Blake. ne “ Speak to 
Ms ‘Are you all no " Lae 








ie oe thing sane ‘could have hone. for ae 







3 
“Qs 
ys 
ce 
a 
“as 
We 
oe 
e) 
2) 
© 
6 
1é 2) 
Q, 
<6 
= 
wm 
=1= Be 
oO 
179) 
m 
if) 
oe 
oe) 
ce 
Ke 
oo 





ae “We must get him to the boat,” be Mr. Al 





rule } 









Pear Yes — yes,” he said, slowly. alle ead 
i ) gon all right.” | be , 
_ There seemed to be no broken bones. Mr. 
‘Alcando took charge of the camera. It was ay, ee ea 
. damaged except as to the tripod. : 
“What happened?” asked Joe, his voice 
"stronger now. fide 
: “You were caught in the slide,” Blake te Be Me 
_ formed him. “ Don’t think about it now. Well a 
Dias you taken care of.” ay 
_ “J—T guess I’m all right,” Joe said, stand- a 
- ing upright.’ * That. coat got wound around my 
— face, and kept the dirt away. I got a bad whack © 
on the head, though, and then I seemed to go to © 
“seep. Did I get any pictures?” — 
none Lak don’ t know. Don’t worry about them now.” 
« We—we missed the best part of the slide, a 
$ 1 guess” foes went on. “ Too bad.” ie hae, 


ine ee z * 






























ie away up ‘Yo the time you went onde @ 
Now, let’s get back.” Ae Wy 
By this time the crowd of men, snclidiin Can 
: - tain Wiltsey, had arrived. But there was noth- 
ing for them to do. The slide had buried Joe, 
and another slide had uncovered him, leaving him 
little the worse, save for a much-muddied suit of — 
clothes, and a bad headache, to say nothing of 
several minor cuts and bruises. — It was a tale, :, 


; escape. > a 
By, Back to the tug they went, taking the cameras 
lee with them. Joe was given such rough and ready ~ 


surgery and medical treatment as was available, — 
and Captain Wiltsey said he would leave at once 
_ for Gatun, where a doctor could be obtained. © 
Fortunately the blockading of the Canal by tl ane 
slide did not stop the Bohio from continuing he 
journey. ‘The slide was north of her pela we 


when he had been ane as comfortable as possi 
. his berth. 
“TI think we did,” Blake said. 










. ne the very best, or ‘rather the eee 
of the Bude, still ae had on fons eh 3 





AT GATUN DAM 177 


of it to make a most interesting series of views. 

Late that afternoon Joe was in the care of a 
physician, who ordered him to stay in bed a 
couple of days. Which Joe was very willing 
to do. For, after the first excitement wore off, 
he found himself much more sore and stiff than 
he had realized. 

‘They were at Gatun now, and there Blake 
planned to get some views of the big dam from 
the lower, or spillway side. 

“ But first ’m going back to the slide,” he said. 
**T want to get some views of the setts getting 
tid of the dirt.” 


CHAPTER XX 


MR. ALCANDO'S [ABSENCE 


: Gone for though the Cane had not ‘been | 


: ~ mually opened, many vessels had started to 1 


“ blocked by the sides Te was necessary to 


Os the dirt away sO” ey could ay on their 


age, | ee 
aa with dredges, i we “steam ee on 2 
: "hydraulic pumps, that sucked through big flex: . 
vy pipes mud and water, iat it off to 








~" 


MR. ALCANDO’S ABSENCE , 179 


MX Blake had telegraphed to New York that the 


one picture above all others desired had been 


‘f ( obtained —that of a big slide in the Culebra 


Cut. He did not tell how Joe had nearly lost 
_his life in helping get the films, for Blake was 


| ae ae as was his chum, and, as he said, it was 


“all in the day’s work.” 
Joe was left to recover from the shock and 


‘ : slight injuries at Gatun, while Blake and Mr. 


Alcando were at Culebra. For the shock to the 


young moving picture operator had been greater 


than at first supposed, though his bodily i injuries 
were comparatively slight. 
“Well, what’s next on the programme?” 


asked Joe of Blake, about two weeks after the 


accident, when Blake had returned from Culebra. 
- Most of the work there was done, and the Canal 


was again open, save to vessels of extreme 


draught. 

cu? guess we'll go on making pictures oo Gatun 
Dam now; that is, if you’re well enough, ” spoke 
Blake. ‘ How do you feel?” _ 

“Pretty fair. How did Alcando make out?” 


“Allright, He’s learning fast. We can trust 


him with a camera now, out alone.” 


 “That’s good. I say, Blake,” and Joe’s voice 


took on a confidential tone, “you haven’t no- 


| peed anything strange about him ; have you?” 














ue ae Anything more shout) that Vien clock of. his? ; 
And did anything more develop about his know- 
ing the captain of that vessel that sunk he 
Nama?”’ iy 
“No, that was only cinradaree! I think. Why, ae 

I can’t say that I’ve noticed anything suspicious, : 
about him, Joe, if that’s what you mean,’ "and 
_Blake’s voice had a questipaine tone. ) 
_“ That’s what I do mean,’ ’ spoke Joe... Ana 
Ge you haven’t I have.” | OMe 
7 Have what: er 















going to opie 
“Another landslide?” ea Blake | wi 
: “Fs “No chance of that here at Gatun Dans > 
N 0, but something else” eaeid aside i 















thi 


MR. ALCANDO’S ABSENCE i8r 





___ “Go on,” invited Blake. “I’m all ears, as the 
donkey said.” 
a “Tt’s no laughing matter,” retorted his chum. 
_ “Haven’t you noticed since you and Alcando 
came back,” he went on, “that he seems differ- 
ent, in a way. He goes about by himself, and, 
several times I’ve caught him looking at the dam 
as though he’d never seen it before. He is won- 
derfully impressed by it.” | 
“Well, anybody would be,’ spoke Blake. 
“t's a wonderful piece of engineering. But go 
ES Oni 
“Not only that,” resumed Joe, “ but I’ve heard 
him talking to himself a lot.” | 
“Well, that’s either a bad sign, or a food 
one,’ laughed his chum. “ They say when a fel- 
low talks to himself he either has money in the 
_ bank, or he’s in love. You can take your 
: choice.” 
“Not whien it’s the kind of talk I overheard 
- ‘Alcando having with himself,” Joe resumed. “I 
‘went out on the dam yesterday, and I saw him 
‘looking at it. He didn’t see me, but I heard him 
- -Muttering to himself.” 

“ What did he say?” Blake wanted to know. 
“I didn’t hear it all,” was Joe’s answer, “ but 
I caught two sentences that made me do a lot 
of thinking. They were these: ‘I just hate 





| eee aM a blanie. on’— 

ee | EO 
“Well, go on,’ amelie make) Bot an 
 "That’s all there was,” Joe coal “y 
Pe eeidsit nea any more. What do you ante 
“he meant?” | 


ia gees could,” ‘Blake! renee ae 
“the truth, he’ll never be a ‘good person I 
_ hasn’t a correct eye for details, and he can’t focu 
- worth a cent, though that ‘might be overcome 
‘ time. “He does well aa for oat wor 


ae Tm s sorry to hear a i Jee, with enu- 
4 ine Ten, ee AO ie be 












“So a am ui to ave. to come to Hat conch 
n,” Blake went on. “I guess he knows at, 
10, for he said 2 as much to me. aad I a that’s 








“him.” 
Be We surely did, and I guess he appreciates 
E that. He said so, anyhow.” ~ 
_ “And so you’re going to get some Gatun pic- 
ets and then quit — eh?” 






the sooner we can get back home. I’ve had all 


eh wl 






¢ lap we've seen all there is to see.” 
_ “We might try a little more of the jungle.” 
“We got enough of. those pictures before,” 


EN far as we’re concerned.” 
| eae Mr. Alcando felt nine sorrow over his fail- 





f 


ey Ae. you fully recovered, Joe?” she asked. 
i es Oh, sure! Pm all right again.” 


“That’s it, Joe, and the sooner we get them — 


tae a want of Panama. Not that it oe ‘tamnice place, 


he declared. “ No, the dam will wind it up, : 


4 
Eve 




















184 : MOVING PICTURE BOYS. 4 r PANAMA cay 


of my hands, and you were saved by the sam ce 
sort of slide that covered you up.” 
“Yes, I guess I was born lucky,” laughed jee 
Preparations for taking several views of the ae 
big Gatun Dam from the lower, or spillway side, — 
were made. One afternoon Mr. Alcando asked 
if he would be needed in making any views, and 
when Blake told him he would not, the Spaniard 
went off by himself, taking a small camera also 
him. : 
“Tm going to try my hee on my own hook; ” oe 
he said. 
“ That’s right,” cncontael Blake. “Go it on 
your own responsibility. Good luck!” : 
“‘He’s trying hard, at all events,’ said Joe, 
when their acquaintance had left them. 
“Yes,” agreed Joe. ai “He wants to. make oo 
good.” aor 
Several times after this Mr. ‘Alcando went off 
by himself for more or less prolonged absences. 
Each time he took a camera with him. ‘ 





: = pars than for professionals, but it atte he 
etnies. 





MR. ALCANDO’S ABSENCE 185 


as the Spaniard set down his camera and carry- 
ing case. “‘I got some good scenes, I believe. 
When are you going to make the last of the spill- 
Way views?” 

[Blake did not answer. He was listening to 
a curious sound. It was a ticking, like that of 
an alarm clock, and it came from the interior of 
the carrying case that held extra reels of film 
for the little camera Mr. Alcando had. 

Blake felt himself staring at the black box. 


as Mee noted Blake’ Ss gis a 
thing —? 1 He did not finish. 


“That sound —in the: film-case — a 


_Syaniad Ecey take it Out ith: me on my ee 
_ Often, when I have finished taking pictures, 
ay to do a little work on it. 7 


ys 4) 


: “Hell 3 never make | a | queve moving e 


1 ie 


gi ‘your whole ‘mind to it, 








~~ Sd ar, 
Te S 


(AWARNING 187, 


ing with inventions when, you set out to get views. 


An alarm clock! 

“Suppose he does perfect it? There are 
enough on the market now, and I don’t believe 
there’s a fortune in any of em. He might much 
better stick to what he set out to learn. Well, 


it isn’t any of my Buses, I suppose. Joe and 


I have done all we can.’ 

Several times after this the Beahiare went off 
by himself, to make simple moving picture views. 
with the little camera. But, whether or not he 
took along the curious brass-bound box, with the | 


_ metal projections, which he said was an alarm 
| clock, was something Blake or Joe could not dis- 
‘cover. For Blake had told Joe of Alcando’s 


confession. 
Certainly if (Meio did take his model with 
him, he did not wind it up until leaving the boys, 


_ for no ticking sound came from the case. 


The Canal was now as it had been before the 


; big slide. Vessels were passing to and fro, — 


though in some parts of the waterway much fin- 


ishing work remained to be done. Blake and 


Joe took some views of this, and also “ filmed” 
the passage of the various ships to make their 
pictures of wider appeal when they would be 
shown at the Panama Exposition. Mr. Alcando 


_ did his share, and, for a time seemed to show a 








re operator. But something was Sass ig a, 
and it was not altogether o- on the 5 of the itl 
OOS. ptpil, wae 
nA The time was spprouiins Red Blake and Ae 
Joe must bring their work to an end. They had _ | 
accomplished what they set out to do, and word 
came back from New York, where their films had e 

been sent for development, that they were he 4 
among the best the boys had ever taken. 

“ Well, I will soon be leaving you,” said Mr. 

_ Alcando to the chums, one day. “I have heard — 
from my railroad firm, and they are anxious for — 

“me to come back and — making pictures: 
there.” 
“Bis friends are going to ‘be sadly disap- 
pointed in him,” thought Blake. “It’s too bad. 
He'll make a failure of those views. (Well, if 

_ he does they may send for Joe and me, and si 
__ will be so much more business for us, though ’m_ 
sorry to see him make a fizzle of it.” 
_ But Mr. Alcando appeared to have no fears) 
on his own account. He was signs bas 
\o mistic. 


























ae kinds,” he said to the be ee mie was ir 
Ns recommend to me where to ect Sone.” x 












oe At a ae TO 





_AWARNING  =—'189 


. Yes,” spoke Joe. “We'll help you pick 


them out if you are going back to New York.” 


“Tam not so sure of that,” the Spaniard said. 


_ “T will know in a few days when I hear from 


my railroad friends. I expect a letter shortly.” 
There was some little delay in getting the pic- 


_ tures Blake wanted of the Gatun Dam. Certain 
_ work had to be done, and Blake wanted to show 
_ the complete and finished structure. So he de- 


cided to wait. 
About a week after the above conversation 


with Mr. Alcando, the Spaniard came to the 





2 boys, waving an open letter in his hand. The 


mail had just come in, bringing missives to Blake 


and Joe. Some were of a business nature, but 


for each boy there was an envelope, square and 
of delicate tint — such stationery as no business 
man uses. But we need not concern ouselves 


: with that. (We all have our secrets. 


“TY have my marching orders,” laughed the 
Spaniard. “I leave you this week, for my own 
particular qungie. Now I must arrange to get 


_ my cameras.” 


“We'll help you,’ > offered Joe, and then, rath 
the catalogue of a moving picture supply house 


before them, the boys sat down to plan what 
_ sort of an outfit would best be suited to the needs 
of Mr. ‘Alcando. He was not limited as to 








| . “ money, it was evident, ae he eee out - the | 
expensive cameras possible. to buys; gs ew 
“TJ wish you boys would come and see ‘me 
when I get to work taking views along our rail- 
road line,” he said. “It isn’t altogether a self- 
ish invitation,” he added with a laugh, “for 
I expect you could give me good advice, and cor 
rect some of my bite es ean oh 


























saw, on the floor, a piece of paper. Thy i‘ 
picked it up, and, as he saw it was part of|a 
letter to the Spaniard he folded it, to hand ti 
him. But, as he did so he caught sight of a | . 
words on it. And those words made him stare 
in wonder. For Blake read: — ae 
“Stuff is all ready for you, You had bett 
do the job and get away. ‘There, is some | 
~ ee in Europe.” 08 x 
- Saying nothing to his ae Ladat it, 
Re went with the ee toward us Pete 






















A WARNING gor 


“TI wonder what that meant?” he thought to 


himself. “That must have been his orders to” 
_ come back to Brazil and make the pictures. But 


if he goes at it that way— just to do the job 


and get away, he won’t have much success. And 
to think of going to make films of European scen- 


% ery when he isn’t really capable of it. 


“Well, some of these foreigners think they 


know it all when they have only a smattering of 


it,’ mus@d Blake. “Though Alcando isn’t as 


bad that way as lots of others. Well, we’ve done 


our best with him. And how unjust all our sus- 


picions were — Joe’s and mine. I wonder what 


_he really did think he was up to, anyhow? ” 


The next day Blake and Joe were busy mak- 


ing many important views of the big dam, which 


held back the waters of the Chagres River, cre- 


ating Gatun Lake. The Spaniard, too, was busy 
with his preparations for leaving. He was away 


from the boys nearly all day, coming back to the 


boat, which picy made their headquarters, in ae 


evening. 


bel Get any pictures? ” Aan Blake. “Ii you 
have we'll pack up your reel and send it to New 


Work with ours. Where’s the little camera and 


by case? fs 





Mr. Seas oy aoe , as though struc 
“By Jove!” he cried. fen left it out at 
ant an. I was making some views there, and u 
up all the film, Then I got to working on my 
alarm clock, and forgot all about the came 
and film case. I left them out there, and my 
clock, too. Ill go right back and get them!” ey 
He turned to leave the cabin, but, as. he d id 
so, Captain Wiltsey entered. He paid no atte on 
oe to the eee but, erie Blake a 
(Joe said: 
© Boys, I ae a little ONS for you, 
you any flash-light powder?” sees Ne 
“ Flash-light powder? es we have ‘50 
Blake said. “ But we can’t use it for) moving 


: pictures. | It doesn’ t last ee enough. Se rs , 


want,” the captain said. am 
Fs Eb vot ll excise me, rte go on Ai gett 
camera I was so careless < as to eave out,” p 
Mr. Alcando. Sete 
y “T’m glad he’s gone,” 
as the cabin door closed. 
‘to just you boys. 
fing,” he said. aan 
. A warning?” ree hese Mh 4 : 
" “Yes, about Gatun Dam. Theres. 
us ‘that it is soins to be: e destroyed!” ins 





CHAPTER XXIII 
THE FLASHLIGHT 


For an instant the moving picture boys could 
hardly grasp the meaning of the fateful words 
spoken by Captain Wiltsey. But it needed only 
a look at his face to teli that he was laboring 
under great excitement. 

“The Gatun Dam to be destroyed,” repeated 
Joe. “ Then we'd better get —” 

“Do you mean by an earthquake?’ asked 
Blake, breaking in on his chum’s words. 

“No, I don’t take any stock in their earth- 
quake theories,” the captain answered. “ That’s 
all bosh! It’s dynamite.” 

“ Dynamite!” cried Joe and Blake in a breath, 

“Yes, there are rumors, so persistent that they 
cannot be denied, to the effect that the dam is to 
be blown up some night.” 

“ Blown up!” cried Blake and Joe again. 

““That’s the rumor,” continued Captain Wilt- 
sey. “I don’t wonder you are astonished. I was 
myself when [ heard it. But I’ve come to get you 
boys to help us out.” 

193 


a 794 MOVING PICTURE BOYS 17 


* us men, detectives, and all that sort of help.” ee: 
, “We'll have enough of that help,” went on 
the tug boat commander, who was also an em- 
- ployé of the commission that built the Canal. 
“But we need the peculiar es you boxe can 
give us with your cameras.” — Ba 
“You mean to take moving pictures of foe 
blowing up of the dam?” asked Joe. : ay 
“Well, there won’t be any blowing up, if y we 
can help it,” spoke the captain, ‘grimly. | | t 


‘far. oe you any flashlight Boden? 4 Oks 
“Yes,” Blake answered. “Or, if not, we cal ey 
‘make some with materials we can easily ge 


ae. ae last for several minutes? A 

Whe Yes, 1 suppose SO.) eee pis 
“ Well, then, figure on that’ ” cieN eee a 
os “ But I don’t understand it all; i "jee Blake 








THE FLASHLIGHT 195 


“T'll explain,” said Mr. Wiltsey. “ You have 
no doubt heard, as we all have down here, the 
stories of fear of an earthquake shock. As I 
said, I think they’re all bosh. But of late there 
have been persistent rumors that a more serious 
menace is at hand. And that is dynamite. 

“In fact the rumors have gotten down to a 
definite date, and it is said to-night is the time 
picked out for the destruction of the dam. The 
water of the Chagres River is exceptionally high, 
owing to the rains, and if a’ breach were blown 
in the dam now it would mean the letting loose of 
a destructive flood.”’ 

“But who would want to blow up the dam?” 


asked Blake. 


“Enemies of the United States,”’ was the cap- 
tain’s answer. “I don’t: know who they are, 
nor why they should be our enemies, but you 
know several nations are jealous of Uncle Sam, 
that he possesses such a vitally strategic water- 
way as the Panama Canal. 

“But we don’t need to discuss all that now. 


‘The point is that we are going to try to prevent 


this thing and we want you boys to help.” 
* With a flashlight?” asked Blake, wonder- 


Z ing whether the captain depended on scaring those 
who would dare to plant a charge of dynamite 


near the great dam. 





| ae ifs ‘With - a flashlight, or, ee nt a seri 
a ms them, and your moving picture cameras,’ = 
- eapain went on. “We want ane ale to ge oy, 


| evidence a piuel them. Will you do it?” 
SOF course we will!” cried Blake, 


tainly, and we will havea sufficient guard to pre 
vent it. Some one of this. guard | can ae yo 
; boys warning, and you a et : 
. your cameras.’ " 


oO | the es anh 
ot did some of them os i oe a 3 





THE FLASHLIGHT | 197, 


need help in this, Joe. I wonder where AI- 
cando —?” 

“You don’t need him,” declared the captain. 

“Why not?” asked Joe. “ He knows enough 
about the cameras now, and —” 

“He's a foreigner—a Spaniard,” objected 
the captain. 

““I see,” spoke Blake. “ You don’t want it to 
go any farther than can be helped.” 

“ No,” agreed the captain. 

“But how did you and the other officials hear 
all this? ” Joe wanted to know. 

“In a dozen different ways,’ was the answer. 
-“ Rumors came to us, we traced them, and got 
—more rumors. There has been some disaffec- 
tion among the foreign laborers. Men with 
fancied, but not real grievances, have talked and 
muttered against the United States. Then, in 
a manner I cannot disclose, word came to us that 
the discontent had culminated in a well-plotted 
plan to destroy the dam, and to-night is the time 
set. 

* Just who they are who will try the desperate 
work I do not know. I fancy no one does. But 
we may soon know if you boys can successfully 
work the cameras and flashlights.” 

“And we'll do our part!” exclaimed Blake. 
“Tell us where to set the cameras.” 


’ 






Ry 208 
ee We can use that automatic ¢ camera, , t00 : 
Rata we?” asked Joe. rete i 
nis Yes, that will be the: very. thing!” 'e e 
e) Poa . Blake. T hee had found, when making views ¢ oe 




















‘een Ene Bashlicht rowder ed wonder if a in 
. get enough of that?” Bata lee Sel take qu te 
ye dot | ae 

“We must get ito BS declared 
captain. “TI fancy we have some on hand, 
: perhaps you can make more. ar here is ap) 















2 got to hustle. The attempt is to be made so 
time after midnight.” 
we Hustle it is! aa cried | Blake, 





é “ * Come 








CHAPTER XXIV. 
THE TICK-TICK 


*'PuT one camera here, Joe.” 

“All right, Blake. And where will you have 
the other ?”’ 

“Take that with you. Easy now. Don’t 
make a noise, and don’t speak above a whisper!”’ 
cautioned Blake Stewart. “ You'll work one 
machine, and [ll attend to the other, We'll put 
the automatic between us and trust to luck that 
one of the three gets something when the flash 
goes off.” 

The two boys, with Captain Wiltsey, had made 
their way to a position near the spillway, below 
the great Gatun Dam. It was an intensely dark 
night, though off to the west were distant flashes 
of lightning now and then, telling of an approach- 
ing storm. In the darkness the boys moved cau-. 
tiously about, planting their cameras and flash- 
light batteries to give the best results, 

They had had to work quickly to get matters 
in shape before midnight. Fortunately they 
were not delayed by lack of magnesium powder, 

199 


: . “ashigh cartridges, to be py at once, 0 
in a series, by means oh a Ge voltage de 
Oietery: 3 : ie 

The moving picture cameras ‘had been ma in 





























“ THE T TICK-TICK 


F, ptain Wittsey. oh That may seem a strange 
thing: to say,” he went on, “ but it is the truth. 
| Of course we don’t want the dam blown up, or 
~ even slightly damaged, but it will be better to’ 
) det them make the attempt, and catch them red- 
Be handed, than just to scare them off before they 
if make a try. Because, if we do that they may 
3 only come back again, later, when we’re not ready 
‘e for them. But if we let them see we are pre- 
_ pared and can catch some of them at work, it will = 
nd the conspiracy.” ih P 
_ “That’s right!” agreed Blake. “Well, we'll | 
do all we can to help make the capture. We'll 
apture their likenesses on the films, anyhow; 
nd you'll know who they are.’ : 
_ “Which will be something,” the captain said. 
" be We haven’t been able as yet to discover the “a 
identity of any of them. They have kept very => 
secret, and worked very much in the dark.” 
It had been arranged, among Captain Wiltsey 
, and his helpers, that they were to give acertain 
hae signal when they discovered the dynamiters at 
ork, and then the boys would set off their flash- te 





ae 











entio a provided ae miscreants went near ae | 
a A 


net-work Mee pens to break one and so set 
Pah that was pile: 





night callers went on. oa 
in silence, making ready for their part init. All , 
about the boys, though they could neither see nor ’ 
hear them, were Uncle Sam’s men — soldiers, a 
some of them — stationed near where, ce) rumor ; 
said, the attempt was to be made to se the 
dynamite. ve i: 
“We really ought to have anplee hefner 7 : 
said Blake, thoughtfully. “There is one place 
we can’t get in focus no matter how we try, with 
the three machines we have. If we had another — 


automatic it would be all right, but we cae aut, 

















i suggest we get Mr. Alcando, but you: iden t seem ) 
oon to want him. He could easily take pares of | 
one.” 

“It is better to have no foreigners” 
captain. 










built. 29 tea eh ity 7 
“Why?” asked Blake. * i - 





< \" 
ry 













HE TICK-TICK 





Oh, for various reasons. Some of them have : 
lost trade because it shortens routes. But there, 
I must go and see if all the men are in place.” 


an 
og 


_ Captain Wiltsey left him, and once more the © 
moving picture boy resumed his vigil. Alf about 

im was silence and darkness. As well as he 

ould he looked to see that his camera was point- ge 
g in the right direction, and that it set firmly + 
mm the tripod, the legs of which were driven into He 


“Tl just step over and see how Joe is,” thought 
lake. He judged it lacked half an hour yet of © 


ON it ett eoratt ‘Blake, cise Ris chum Se 








Say, but isn’t it dark?” 
“Tt sure is,’ ’ agreed Blake. _ ve 
Ai anil hey stood gare near the great dam. 






m wae was + running to > waste, | 


3 te oe 


204. MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


““'Well, I guess I’ll be getting back,” said Blake 
in a low voice. “No telling when things will 
happen now.’ 

As he started to go away Joe remarked: 

“Where are you wearing your watch? I can 
hear it over here.” 

* Watch! I haven’t mine on,” Blake an- 
swered. ‘“ You can’t see it in the dark, so I left 
it on the boat.” 

“Well, something is ticking pretty loud, and 
it isn’t mine,’ Joe said, “ for I did the same as 
you, and left it in my cabin. But don’t you hear 
that noise?” 

They both listened. Clearly to them, through 
the silence of the night, came a steady and mo- 
notonous tick — tick-tick — 

“It’s the clockwork of the automatic camera,” 
Blake whispered. 

“It can’t be,” answered Joe. “ That’s teo far 
off. Besides, it’s a different sound.” 

They both listened intently. 

“Tick! Tick! Tick!’ came to them through 
the dark silence. 


CHAPTER XXV 
MR. ALCANDO DISAPPEARS 


Fur several seconds Blake and Joe stood there 
— without moving —only listening. And that 
strange noise they heard kept up its monotonous 
note. 

“ Hear it!” whispered Joe. 

“Yes,” answered Blake. “ The brass box — 
the box —he had!” : 

“Yes,” whispered Joe. All the suspicions he 
had had —all those he had laughed at Blake for 
harboring, came back to him in a rush. The 
brass-bound box contained clockwork. Was it 
an alarm after all? Certainly it had given an 
alarm now —a most portentous alarm! 

** We've got to find it!’’ said Blake. 

*““Sure,’ Joe assented. “It may go off any 
minute now. We've got to find it. Seems to be 
near here.” 

_ They began looking about on the ecg as 
though they could see anything in that blackness. 


But they were trying to trace it by the sound of 
205 


. ae 


a ; 
3 
7S v \ 


“the an ‘And. it is no easy matter, ae yo 5 


room. 
We ought to give the Beil ee Bike cv 
“ Before it is too late,” assented Joe, F ‘Where 

can it be? It seems near here, and yet we can ty 

locate it.” ve 

ros Get dae on your hands and. ae one aoe 

around,” advised Blake. In this fashion 1 the 


- never ae it ieee And each of nen e - 
ipenized the peculiar clicking: sound as | the sai 1e 


‘thos Mr. Aleando had said was. Pe new ala 
~ clock. 
“Hark!” suddenly exeinnned BlakeS Bays 
Off to the left, where was planted the a 
_ matic camera, came a faint noise. — Li sour 
like a suppressed exclamation. Then e 
| echo as if someone had Beye pen : 


ae “if brightness, and made Blake BS Tae i 
. owls thrust suddenly into the a of an | 























+207, 


a Blake. 7 “There was no need for leas now. 


of the magnesium powder the moving picture 
Boys. s saw a curious sight. 


g : 7” Mr. Alcando !” aan Toe. 

_ “The Spaniard!” fairly shouted Blake. | 
Then, as the two chums looked on the bril- 
liantly lighted scene, knowing that the camera 
was faithfully taking pictures of every move of 
their recent pupil, the boys saw, rushing toward 


3 had been i in hiding. : 


lake aed “So he’s the guilty one.” 
“Unless there’s a oe spoke Joe. _ 
“Mistake! Never!” uted his chum. 
a brass box! oes, 


The whole scene was brilliantly lighted, and | 
: _ remained so for many seconds. And in the glare. 


Alcando, a number of the men and soldiers who 7 





Ae 





208 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


The next moment he had knelt down, and with 
a pair of pliers he carried for adjusting the 
mechanism of his camera severed the wites with a 
quick snap. The ticking in the box still went 
on, but the affair was harmless now. It could 
not make the electrical current to discharge the 
deadly dynamite. . 

“Boys! Boys! (‘Where are you?” cried Cap- 
tain Wiltsey. 3 

“Here!” cried Blake. “We've stopped the 
infernal machine! ”’ 

“And we've got the dynamiter. He’s your 
friend — 

The rest of the words died away as the light 
burned itself out. Intense blackness. succeeded. 

“Come on!” cried Joe. “ They've got him, 
We won’t have to work the hand cameras. ‘The 
automatic did it!” 

They stumbled on through the darkness. Lan- 
terns were brought and they saw Mr. Alcando 
a prisoner in the midst of the Canal guards. 
The Spaniard looked at the boys, and smiled 
sadly. 

_' “Well, it —it’s all over, * he said.’ * But it 
isn’t as bad as it seerns.” 

“Tt’s bad enough, ‘as you'll find,” AE Captain 
Wiltsey grimly. “Are you sure the wires are 
disconnected, boys?” he asked. 


MR. ALCANDO DISAPPEARS 209 


“ Sure,’ replied Blake, holding out the brass 
box. 

“Oh, so you found it,” said the Spaniard. 
* Well, even if it had gone off there wouldn’t 
have been much of an explosion.” 

“Tt’s easy enough to say that— now,” de- 
clared the captain. 

But later, when they followed up the wires 
which Blake had severed, which had run from 
the brass-bound box to a point near the spillway 
of the dam, it was found that only a small charge 
of dynamite had been buried there—a charge 
so small that it could not possibly have done more 
than very slight damage to the structure. 

“T can’t understand it,” said Captain Wiltsey. 
“They could just as well have put a ton there, 
and blown the place to atoms, and yet they didn’t 
use enough to blow a boulder to bits. I don’t 
understand it.” 

“ But why should Mr. Alcando try to blow up 
the dam at all?” asked Blake. ‘ That’s what I 
can’t understand.” 

But a little later they did, for the Spaniard 
confessed. He had to admit his part in the plot, 
for the moving pictures, made by the automatic 
camera, were proof positive that he was the guilty 
/ one. 

“Yes, it was I who tried to blow up the dam,” 


ce to be an EIDE to dangeee it, ty was ee 


intended to Trey destroy it. It was z an a) 


: . - attempt, only.”’ 


“ But what for?” he was eet 
“To cause a lack of confidence in the < Coa s 
was the unexpected answer. “Those I represen . 
would like to see it unused. ‘ti is going | to ruil 


our railroad interests.” 


Then he told of the plot : eau 


ao Ee its profits on carrying aban across oe 
‘America. Once the Canal was established goods — 
could be transported much more cheaply 
quickly ee the water route. The railroad own rs 










want to le it, but he was promised a large _ 
aes and threats were made sce him, for the — 


. etected. I selected moving pictures as the sim- — 
_ plest means. I knew that some were tobe made 








Caen I had Bee iptisied what I set out to do I : | oe 
mae I thought, let vba rest on the camera 


B12 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


I came to you boys,” he said. “ Ashamed as I 
am to confess it, it was my plan to have the blame 
fall on you.” 

Blake and Joe gasped. 

“But when you saved my life at the broken 
bridge that time, of course I would not dream of 
such a dastardly trick,” the Spaniard resumed, 
*T had to make other plans. [I tried to get out 
of it altogether, but that man would not let me. 
So I decided to sacrifice myself. I would myself 
blow up the dam, or, rather, make a little explo- 
sion that would scare prospective shippers. I did 
not care what became of me as long as I did not 
implicate you. I could not do that. | 

“So I changed my plans. Confederates sup- 
plied the dynamite, and I got this clock-work, in 
the brass-bound box, to set it off by means of © 
electrical wires. , I planned to be far away when 
it happened, but I would have left a written con- 
fession that would have put the blame where it 
belonged. 

“I kept the battery box connections and clock- 
work inside the small camera I carried. To- 
night all was in readiness. The dynamite was 
planted, and I set the mechanism. But something 
went wrong with it. There was too much of a 
delay. I came back to change the timer. I 
broke the string connections you made, and— 


MR. ALCANDO DISAPPEARS 213 


I was caught by the camera. The news had, 
somehow, leaked out, and I was caught. Well, 
perhaps it is better so,” and he shrugged his shoul- 
ders with seeming indifference. 

“But please believe me when I say that no 
harm would have come to you boys,” he went on 
earnestly, “ nor would the dam have been greatly 
damaged. 

“It was all a terrible plot in which I became 
involved, not all through my own fault,” went 
on the Spaniard, dramatically. “As soon as I 
met you boys, after you had saved my life, I 
repented of my part, but [ could not withdraw. 
The plans of this scoundrel — yes, I must call 
him so, though perhaps I am as great — his plans 
_ called for finding out something about the big 
guns that protect the Canal. Only I was not able 
to do that, ioagh he ordered me to in a letter I 
think you saw.’ 

Blake nodded. He and Joe were beginning to 
understand many strange things. 

“One of the secret agents brought me the box 
containing the mechanism that was to set off the 
dynamite,” the Spaniard resumed. ‘ You nearly 
eaught him,” he added, and Blake recalled the 
episode of the cigar smoke. “I had secret con- 
ferences with the men engaged with me in the 
plot,” the conspirator confessed. ‘“ At times I 











2 


tou _ MOPING PICTURE BOYS na ni 4 Mt 





Bi to throw off the suspicions I saw you. entertaine 
regarding me. But I must explain one thin 
_ The collision, in which the tug was_ sunk, had 
nothing to do with the plot. That was a ‘simple 
accident, though I did BROW, the ae of that 

Bolucky steamer, ; 





“Thad set it off, I had better flee fe Europe.” » 
Blake had accidentally seen that letter. i. 4 
‘ Tr received wee the time we. pe 














a great Hees wnt would have Gone anything 
protect you, after what you did. in saving 
: worthless life,” he said bitterly. « So Ti w ld 
not: agree to all the plans of that scoundrel, thougt 
- he urged me most hotly. ei 
Ge ‘But it is all over, now! 1 he exclaime 











MR. ALCANDO DISAPPEARS 215 


a tragic gesture. “I am caught, and it serves 
me right. Only I can be blamed. My good 
friends, you will not be,” and he smiled at Blake 
and Joe. “I am glad all the suspense is at an 
end. I deserve my punishment. I did not know 
the plot had been discovered, and that the stage 
was set to make so brilliant a capture of me. But 
I am glad you boys had the honor. 

“* But please believe me in one thing. I really 
did want to learn how to take moving pictures, 
though it was to be a blind as to my real pur- 
pose. And, as I say, the railroad company did 
not want to really destroy the dam. After we 
had put the Canal out of business long enough for 
us to have amassed a fortune we would have been 
content to see it operated. We simply wanted 
to destroy public confidence in it for a time.” 

“The worst kind of .destruction,’”? murmured 
Captain Wiltsey. ‘“‘ Take him away, and guard 
him well,” he ordered the soldiers. “ We will 
look further into this plot to-morrow.” 

But when to-morrow came there was no Mr. 
Alcando. He had managed to escape in the night 
from his frail prison, and whither he had gone no 
one knew. 

But that he had spoken the truth was evident. 
A further investigation showed that it would have 
been impossible to have seriously damaged the 


216 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


dam by the amount of dynamite hidden. But, as 
Captain Wiltsey said, the destruction of public 
confidence would have been a serious matter. 

“ And so it was Alcando, all along,” observed 
Blake, a few days later, following an unsuccess- 
ful search for the Spaniard. 

“Yes, our suspicions of him were justified,” 
remarked Blake. “It’s a lucky thing for us that 
we did save his life, mean as he was. It wouldn’t 
have been any joke to be suspected of trying to 
blow up the dam.” 

“No, indeed,” agreed Blake. “ And suspicion 
might easily have fallen on us. It was a clever 
trick. Once we had the Government permission 
to go all over with our cameras, and Alcando, as 
a pupil, could go with us, he could have done 
almost anything he wanted. But the plot failed.” 

“Lucky it did,” remarked Joe. “I guess 
they ll get after that railroad man next.” 

But the stockholder who was instrumental in 
forming the plot, like Alcando, disappeared. 
That they did not suffer for their parts in the 
affair, as they should have, was rumored later, 
when both of them were seen in a European capi- 
tal, well supplied with money. How they got it 
no one knew. 

The Brazilian Railroad, however, repudiated 
the attempt to damage the Canal, even apparently, 


y 


MR. ALCANDO DISAPPEARS 217 


laying all the blame on the two men who had dis- 
appeared. But from then on more stringent reg- 
ulations were adopted about admitting strangers 
to vital parts of the Canal. 

i “ But we're through,” commented Blake one 
day, when he and Joe had filmed the last views of 
the big waterway. “ That Alcando was a ‘slick’ 
one, though.” 

“Indeed he was,” agreed Joe. “ The idea of 
' calling that a new alarm clock!” and he looked 
at the brass-bound box. Inside was a most com- 
plicated electrical timing apparatus, for setting 
off charges of explosive. It could be adjusted to 
cause the detonation at any set minute, giving the 
‘plotter time to be a long way from the scene. 

And, only because of a slight defect, Alcando 
would have been far from the scene when the 
little explosion occurred at Gatun Dam. 

Once more the great Canal was open to traffic. 
The last of the slide in Culebra Cut had been 
taken out, and boats could pass freely. 

“Let’s make a trip through now, just for fun,” 
suggested Blake to Joe one day, when they had 
packed up their cameras. 

Permission was readily granted them to make 
a pleasure trip through to Panama, and it was 
greatly enjoyed by both of them. 

“Just think!” exclaimed Blake, as they sat 


218 MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA 


under an awning on the deck of their boat, and 
looked at the blue water, “ not a thing to do.” 

*“‘ Until the next time,” suggested Joe. 

‘“‘ That’s right — we never do seem to be idle 
long,” agreed Blake. “I wonder what the ‘next 
time’ will be?” 

And what it was, and what adventures fol- 
lowed you may learn by reading thé next volume 
of this Gia to be called “The Movie Boys Under 
the Sea”; or “The Treasure of the Lost Ship.” 

“ Here on go, Blake!” cried Joe, a few cons 
later. “ Letter for you!” 

“Thanks. Get any yourself?” 

** ‘Yes, one.” 

“Huh! How many do you want?”. asked 
Blake, as he began reading his epistle. “ Well, 
Plt soon be back,” he added in a low voice, as he 
finished. | 

“ Back where?” asked Joe. 

“To New York.” 

And so, with these pleasant thoughts, we will 
take leave of the moving picture boys. 


THE END 





Oey VICTOR APPLETON 








‘THE MOVIE BOYS ON CALL, 
or Filming the Perils of A Great City. Published January 2, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN THE WILD WEST, 
or Stirring Days Among the Cowboys and Indians. 
te Getta Jauuary 28, 1926 
v3 “THE MOVIE BOYS AND THE WRECKER 
or Facing the Perils of the Deep. Paid F ebruary 28, 1926 
s—. THE MOVIE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE. 
is or Lively Times Among the Wild Beasts. Published March 28,1926 
Pe, i THE MOVIE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND, 
‘THE MOVIE BOYS AND THE FLOOD, 
or Perilous Days en the Mighty Mississippi. Published May 28, 1926 
_ ‘FHE MOVIE BOYS IN PERIL, 
_---—s or *Strenuous Days Along the Panama Canal. 
Bey Published June 28, roan 
Nhe 5 83 MOVIE BOYS UNDER THE SEA, 
_-~~—_ or The Treasure of the Lost Ship. Published July 28, 1926 
<THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER FIRE, ~ 
Be or The Search fer the Stolen Film. Published August 28, 7926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER UNCLE SAM, 





_ ‘THE MOVIE BOYS’ FIRST SHOWHOUSE, 
We : er Fighting for a Foothold in Fairlands. Published October 28, 1926 
‘THE MOVIE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARK, 
<o oF The Rival Photo Houses of the Boardwalk. 
Published Nowentker 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS ON BROADWAY, 
or The Mystery of the Missing Cash Box. 
Published December 28, 1926 
‘THE MOVIE BOYS’ OUTDOOR EXHIBITION, 
-_ er the Film that Solved the Mystery. = Published January 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ NEW IDEA, 
p ky te or Getting the Best of Their Enemies. Published February 28, 1927 
a & THE MOVIE BOYS AT THE BIG FAIR, 
or The Greatest Film Ever Exhibited. Published March 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ WAR SPECTACLE, 
or The Film that Won the Prize. Published April 28, 1927 








# 





or Filming Pictures and Strange Perils. Published April 28, 1926 


or Taking Pictures for the Army. Published September 28, 1926 


a . 


| Garden City Publishing Go., Ince 
Garden ey Pi =i. New Kou Giaas, 


_ FRANK ALLEN’S SCHOOLDAYS, 
or The AH Around Rivals of Columbia High, 
| Pall emery 2 1996 


FRANK ALLEN PLAYING TO WIN, | 
or the Boys of Columbia High on the Ice. | a a 
| Published January ch ot 


FRANK ALLEN IN WINTER SPORTS, / 
or Columbia High on Skates and Iceboats. 


FRANK ALLEN—HEAD OF THE Soe 
or The Boys of Columbia Higa? on the lished M f 
















THE NAT RIDLEY RAPID FIRE 
DETECTIVE STORIES 


. By NAT RIDLEY, Jr. 





_ GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY, 

er Nat Ridley’s Great Race Track Case. 

hie Published January 2, 1926 
TRACKED TO THE WEST, 

pace or Nat Ridley at the Magnet Mine. 


Bene, 3 Published January 21, 1926 
‘ IN THE NICK OF TIME, 
; or Nat Ridley Saving a Life. Published February 21, 1926 


THE CRIME ON THE LIMITED, 

3 or Nat Ridley in the Follies, | Published March 21, 1926 
‘A DARING ABDUCTION, 3 

2 or Nat Ridley’s Biggest Fight. Published April 21, 1926 
THE STOLEN NUGGETS OF GOLD, 

or Nat Ridley on the Yukon. = Published May ar, 1926 


oe ‘A SECRET OF THE STAGE, 


or Nat Ridley and the Bouquet of Death. 
ay Published June 21, , 1926 
ah ‘THE GREAT CIRCUS MYSTERY, 


Ms or Nat Ridley on a Crooked Trail. Published Ne 21, ‘1926 
A SCREAM IN THE DARK, 


fae RACE TRACK CROOKS, 
or nee Ridley’s Queerest Puzzle. 





- Garden City Bananas Coa! ae 


or Nat Ridley’s Crimson Clue. Published August 21, 1926 . 


Published September 21, 1926 — 


‘ Garden City - New York 


Ss 








The Dave Fearless Series 
By ROY ROCKWOOD 





DAVE FEARLESS AFTER A SUNKEN 
TREASURE, a 
or The Rival Ocean Divers. Published January 2, 1926 me 


DAVE FEARLESS ON A FLOATING ISLAND, ate 
or The Cruise of the Treasure Ship, Bein 
Published January 1, 1026 


DAVE FEARLESS AND THE CAVE OF 
‘MYSTERY, . 
- or Adrift on the Pacific. -~ Published February 14, 1926, 5 } a 


DAVE FEARLESS AMONG THE ICEBERGS, bee 
er The Secret of the Eskimo Igloo. ys cae 
Published March 14, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS WRECKED. AMONG 


SAVAGES, 
‘or The Captives of the Head Hunters, 
Published A pri 14, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS AND HIS BIG RAFT, 4 
» or Alone on the Broad Adlantic. Published May 14, 1926 | 





"Garden City Publishing Co., no 
~ Garden City ~ “ New York j 











nl 


39 1 


—— 


jill iil 


I 


WM 


354 


if 





The Movie Boys Series 


By VICTOR “APPLETON 





THE MOVIE BOYS ON CALL, 
or Filming the Perils of A Great City. Published January 2, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN THE WILD WEST, 
oi Stirring Days Among the Cowboys and Indians. 
Published January 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS AND THE WRECKERS, 
or Facing the Perils of the Deep. Published February 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE, 
or Lively Times Among the Wild Beasts. Published March 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND, 
or Filming Pictures and Strange Perils. Published April 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS AND THE FLOOD, 
or Perilous Days on the Mighty Mississippi. Published May 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN PERIL, 
or Strenuous Days Along the Panama Canal. ; 
Published June 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER THE SEA, 
or The Treasure of the Lost Ship. Published July 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER FIRE, 
or The Search for the Stolen Film. Published August 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER UNCLE SAM, 
or Taking Pictures for the Army. Published September 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ FIRST SHOWHOUSE, 
or Fighting for a Foothold in Fairlands. Published October 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARK, 
or The Rival Photo Houses of the Boardwalk. 
Published November 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS ON BROADWAY, 
r The Mystery of the Missing Cash Box. 
Published December 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ OUTDOOR EXHIBITION, 
or the Film that Solved the Mystery. Published January 28, 1927 
THLE MOVIE BOYS’ NEW IDEA, 
or Getting the Best of Their Enemies. Published February 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS AT THE BIG FAIR, 
or The Greatest Film Ever Exhibited. Published March 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ WAR SPECTACLE, 
or The Film that Won the Prize. Published April 28, 1927 


Garden City Publishing Co., lnc. 
Garden City - - New York 











